A/N: yep, I'm back!  Here's some answer to questions:

Christy S.:  Oh, yes, Leslie most definitely will bring some more secrets to life, especially when Scott pisses her off…And Rogue will be back, soon, with Gambit, and Storm will eventually make an appearance.

Hoodoo:  Nope, Leslie's eyes haven't totally adapted yet. (What, actually be nice to my fictives?  Please!)  They have adjusted somewhat, however, and chapter 10 took place when dusk had almost moved to night.

…Hmm, think that's it.  Oh, wait, someone who I can't remember asked if it was true if Leslie could never go home. ::gives reviewer reproachful look::   Now, that would be telling, wouldn't it?  But if you remember what Xavier said, there are three problems with getting her home, the how, her powers, and the time difference.  He said he didn't know how to do it, not that it couldn't be done.  So, to answer your question…wait and see! ;-)

Disclaimer:

Tony: Look at him, I've killed him.
Wolf: It was a simple gold-finger mistake Tony, it was almost predictable. I wouldn't worry about him too much. Things here have a way of bouncing back.
Tony: Really? You're not just saying that?
Wolf: I'm afraid I am just saying that. Watch this simple Prince Alertness Test; (picks up a stick) Come on Prince, come on, (throws stick) Fetch!
Tony: That's not funny!
Wolf: It'll get funnier if we keep on doing it.

~The 10th Kingdom

            Julia burst into the house, frantic.  "JEEEEAAAAN!!  KUUUUURRRT!  SOMEONE?!"

            Kurt quickly teleported next to her.  "Vhat is it, Julia?"

            She gasped, trying to catch her breath.  "Leslie…gone…desert…"

            Kurt quickly cursed in German then 'ported outside.  His yellow eyes let him see through the night and pick up Leslie's footprints that the desert had not yet swallowed.  He followed them as be reached out to Leslie, sending his emotions best he could.

            ~Worry, search, fear~

            His response was the emotional equivalent of a glare.  ~Anger, longing, desire to be alone~

            ~Smile.  Stubborn, coming~

            ~Disgust~  He was fairly certain she was rolling her eyes.

            He hurried past the scenery, identical to itself.  Sooner than he had thought he would, he saw her form in the night.  He stood next to her briefly before sitting.

            "Thought I told you I wanted to be alone."

            He smiled at that.  "You did."

            "Hmph.  Guess you don't listen very well, do ya?"  Her voice and emotions were filled with bitterness.

            He sat in silence for a moment, just studying her feelings.  Anger, lots of it, was present.  And Hate, of course, the two go hand-in-hand.  Loneliness.  And Something Else, something that seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite name.

            Leslie glared at him.  "Stop it.  I can tell when you're trying to read me.  Don't."

            "Sorry," he said absentmindedly, still trying to identify the last feeling.  He suddenly recognized it.  Stiffening, he stood.  "You lied, didn't you?"

            "…about what?"

            Kurt glared at her, yellow eyes flashing.  "Don't pretend you don't know.  Vhen you said you veren't scared of me."

            "Oh."  Leslie continued staring at the stars.  "Yeah.  I did."

            Furious, Kurt hauled her to her feet, forcing her to look at him.  "Vhy?  Vhy did you lie, vhy are you still scared?"

            She shook his arm off.  "Gee, Kurt, could it be the fact that people aren't supposed to look like you?  Could it be that you remind me of childhood fears?  Or the fact that when I see you I remember that I don't belong here, that this isn't my home?  Or could it be the fact that you're filled with rage and pain to the point I want to vomit?  Oh, just choose one!  Any one!" 

            Kurt fell to the ground in pain, her anger washing over him, drowning him.  Mein Gott…she'll kill me…Suddenly, it was gone.  "I'm sorry, Kurt, so sorry," he heard.  Opening his eyes, which he'd squeezed shut, trying to block it all out, he looked up to see Leslie bending over him, tears streaming down her face.  "Are you okay?" she whispered.

            "Ja, but vhat…" his voice sounded weak to even his own ears.

            Relief spread through the link, from her to him, and with it came guilt and  sorrow.  "I blocked the link," she said softly, helping him up.  "I couldn't keep it shut, though.  I was afraid…" she trailed off, tears shining like stars in her black eyes.  "Oh, Kurt, I almost…"

            "Shhh, liebling.  Shhh."  He held her, letting her cry, trying to comfort her through the link.  "It's hard, I know.  I know."  And he did know, knew her struggles and pain and fears.

            Eventually her tears subsided.  She pulled slowly away, blushing.

            Kurt studied her worriedly.  She looked exhausted, her normally pale skin almost albino white under the moon, though part of it came from the contrast between it and her eyes, under which hung deep bags.

            "I'm sorry, Kurt," she said softly, turning away.  "I'm sorry I'm scared of you."

            Hurt still, but now also understanding, Kurt gently took her hand in his.  She looked at him, startled.  "Then, Leslie, I must vork to make you not scared," he said with a smile. 

            Leslie returned it with one of her own.  She knew he was hurt, of course, but he was so kind.  She swore inwardly that she would hurt the Pontiff for what he'd done to him.  "Thank you," she said softly.

            Simply nodding, Kurt guided her back to the house.

            I owe Kurt for his kindness.  I know it hurts him to feel me, yet he focuses on how I feel.  He is such a gentle soul…

            I think that's what I sense, in part—people's souls.  I know that I see something beyond emotions, something that's the essence of people.

            Take Jean's, for instance.  She's all fire, like the phoenix whose name she bears.  She loves and hates with the same intensity, throwing all of herself into everything she does. 

            Scott is in many ways the wind, sometimes gently blowing like a child blows a dandelion, sometimes with the force of a hurricane.  He's torn in all directions now, not knowing what to do, where to go, whether to confide in Jean or go to Emma.  I hope he decides before he hurts himself.

            Julia's a puppy.  Dear Lord, she'll kill me if she hears me say that, but it's true!  Kind and loving, worried for others, but if you anger her she'll bite.

            Bobby…He would scare me, had I not seen other things scarier than he.  He's not a puppy, but a wolf cub.  He may act silly, but there's something in him that's…well, cold, forgive the pun.  Something in him that's like Logan, of all people.  A killer, God help him.

            And Kurt…when I said that his emotions scared me, I meant it.  His form discomforts me, that's all.  But Kurt…his soul's like an angel, ridiculous and cliché as it may sound.  But darkness is trying to overtake it, darkness and anger and fear, swallowing him like the blackness is me.

            And it is swallowing me, each night a little more.  Each day I'm a little less me, a little more of a stranger.  I wish…I wish that I could just be Leslie again, the Leslie I was.  Now…I don't know who I am…

            I wonder…would my parents recognize me now, even if I could go home?

            Jean was extremely exasperated, but forced a smile.  "Come on, Leslie, try again.  You've done it before."

            Leslie glared at her.  "In case you haven't noticed, I did it for about five seconds, and I've been trying all bloody morning!"

            Jean rolled her eyes, then paused, contemplating.  They'd spent over an hour already trying to get Leslie to block others' emotions, with (extremely) limited success.  She sighed, resigning herself to the fact that she'd been trying to avoid.  "Leslie…we can keep working if you want…"

            Leslie sensed her unhappiness and desire to say more.  "But?"

            Jean looked her in the eye.  "Leslie, without accessing your mind, I really can't help you anymore than I have.  I think, though I could be wrong, that the best thing you can do is learn to deal with, and separate, the emotions."

            Leslie sat in silence.  She felt like she should be stunned, but, truly, she wasn't.  Instinctively, on some level she'd tried to ignore, she'd known that she could never completely block the emotions.

            Oh, they'd made some progress in the week they'd been there, helped Leslie to be able to begin to ignore them, but that was it.  She knew Jean had done all she could.  "You're right," she said softly, returning Jean's gaze.  "There's no more you can do.  But…I thank you, Jean, for what you have done."  With that, she left the room.

            Jean's heart broke to sense the sorrow in Leslie.  And that, Jean thought ruefully, stretching her arms, is the difference between us.  Jean only sensed what others felt.  Leslie experienced it, felt it as strongly as if the emotions were her own.

            Jean made her way to the kitchen, intent on a glass of lemonade.  She filled one then curled up on the couch, switching on the TV as she did so.  She grimaced and changed the channel to CNN when she saw that the movie of the week was a love story.  Unbidden, her thoughts drifted toward her husband.

            Scott had left two days after arriving, called back to the Institute for one emergency or another, as distant as he had been when they'd first come to New Mexico.  The first day, she'd thought that they were starting to reconnect.  They'd talked, really talked, for the first time in months.  And the sex…well, it wasn't as if she'd had much lately to compare it to, but it had been good.

            But he was still keeping something from her, still distant.  And, she admitted, if she was being honest, she was keeping things from him, too.  She'd changed since Apocalypse, and so had he.  That was the ugly truth.  And this new Scott didn't know how to interact with the new Jean.  And vice versa.

            Jean wiped away a lone tear, hoping Leslie hadn't felt her, for Leslie's sake as well as her own.  She determinedly took a sip of her drink and channel surfed until finally settling down and watching a special on the History Channel. 

            Kurt was in his room changing into his swimsuit when his door suddenly flung open.  "AHHHH!" he yelled, grateful his trunks were already up, though it had been close.

            "Scream later, hide me!"  Leslie yelped, diving under his bed, but not before Kurt noticed what she was wearing.

            Or rather, not wearing.

            She wore a swimsuit.  A very tiny swimsuit.  A very tiny, wet swimsuit. And, while Kurt had certainly seen women in tiny swimsuits before, most of them weren't soaking wet and in his bedroom.  Even fewer were in his bedroom while he was in the process of changing.

            Bad thoughts bad thoughts… Kurt shuddered, trying to get the images out of his mind, reminding himself that not only was he a priest, but also that the person those thoughts were about was only 17.  As important as those points were, they were also ineffective.

            Julia and Bobby chose that moment to burst through the already-battered door, causing it to hang crookedly on one hinge.  "Where is she, Kurt?" Bobby demanded.  It was then that Kurt noticed the fact that Bobby had his arms iced up.  Also the fact that Julia carried a Super Soaker big enough to rival one of Cable's guns.  A gun which was pointed at him.

            Julia grinned menacingly. (Which she had learned to do in Logan's Intimidating Your Enemy 101 class.  Well, not really, but if there were such a class, Logan would teach it.)  "Tell us, and we'll let you go."

            ~Threatening.  Glare.  Pleading.~

            Now, Kurt considered briefly the possible options.  Actually, he merely considered the fact that, while he was going to get wet soon anyway, he really didn't want to be hit in the face with a snowball.  "Under the bed."

            "TRAITOR!" Leslie yelled, rolling out.  She was immediately bombarded with snow and water.  Shrieking, she ducked behind the laughing Kurt, grabbing his arms to prevent him from teleporting away without her.

            Kurt immediately stopped laughing and tried to move, but it was too late.  He had become a casualty.

            Howling with victory, Bobby and Julia ran out of the room.  Leslie wiped snow out of her eyes, then burst into giggles, seeing the drenched Kurt.  His fur hung down all over his body, his hair hung in his face, and his tail was drooping.

            Kurt growled at her, but it only made her laugh all the harder.  An evil gleam came into his eye, and the sudden sense of satisfaction that came through there link made Leslie stop laughing.  "Now, Kurt," she said nervously, trying to figure out a way to get to the door, "don't do anything stupid…"

            He grinned.  "I'm not going to, liebling."  With that he pounced, using both his hands and his tail to tickle her ribs.

            Leslie squirmed, shrieking with laughter.  "HAHAHA…okay…HEHEHE…I give!"

            Kurt laughed at her.  "Doesn't vork that vay!"  He continued tickling her until the fatigue in his limbs forced him to stop.

            Panting, Leslie looked up at him from her place on the floor.  He was propped up over her on his arms, his face close to hers, his tail touching her cheek.  Her breathing slowed as she stared at him through her sunglasses, suddenly intensely aware of both his and her lack of clothing.  Through the link she felt his attraction to her, his desire, and, beneath that, his fear of what might happen.  She knew also that he felt the same things from her.  She longed to just let it happen, to kiss him…But he's a priest, the good Catholic girl in her reminded her.  And that was that.

            She coughed, then slowly shifted out from under him.  Quickly, he stood, turning his head away, but putting out a hand to help her up.  Afraid of what might happen if she even just touched him, she ignored it, rising by herself.

            Leslie stared at him, uncertain of what to say.  "Kurt…" she started to whisper, but stopped, not knowing what to say after that.  Instead, she ran from his room as quickly as she could and to her bedroom, where she quickly entered the shower, setting the water as cold as it would go.

            In his room, Kurt threw himself onto his bed and screamed with frustration into his pillow.