The Price of Being Normal
Sunday Morning, Xavier Institute for Higher Learning
As Bobby and Kitty pulled up in front of the mansion, Bobby took one look at the construction workers effecting the repairs and started singing,
"Broke into the old apartment
This is where we used to live
Broken ceilings, broken plumbing, broken heads and broken bones
This is where we used to live."1
Kitty was laughing, but managed to get out, "I don't think that's quite how it goes..."
Bobby just shrugged, his hair flipping over his eyes, and grinned as he pushed it back.. "So? They've got the idea right - I'm just helping it along." They got out of the car, and he after he finally managed to slam shut the driver's door he continued,
"Why did they paint the walls?
Why did they fix the door?
Why did they plaster over the hole Rogue punched through the floor?"
"Because Kurt guilted Warren into paying for repairs?" Kitty asked innocently, rolling her eyes skyward. Bobby just glared at her and sang louder.
"THIS IS WHERE WE USED TO LIVE!"
"Hey Bobster - some of us are like, still living here, remember?" Jubilee shouted, leaning out her open second floor window. "Quit with the singing already, ok? You're gonna scare Wolvie's baby before it's even born!"
"Wow, if I didn't know your concern was only for the potential loss of babysitting fees I'd feel bad right now," he yelled back, and laughed as she grinned and made an unmistakable gesture with one finger before closing the window.
"Anyway, she's right - I do still live here, at least for a couple more days," Kitty clarified. "Are you leaving right away, or can you stay a while?"
"For a bit," he answered reluctantly, the smile on his face fading. While he knew he'd be seeing Kitty again soon, it wasn't the same as being with her every day. Still, he remembered, his mood lightening, come the end of the week they'd be moving into their own apartment. Together, which was really far more than he'd dared to hope. And, most importantly, far from the X-Men migration pattern, constant interruptions, and homicidal ex-boyfriends. It was definitely something to look forward to. "Wish I could stick around until moving day, but..."
"But you've got to get back to work," Kitty said decisively. "It's not going to kill us to be apart for a couple of days. Besides, I'll see you during the week - when did you say I'm supposed to be over?"
"Today?" he asked hopefully as they walked up to the door, but Kitty just laughed and shook her head.
"I'm serious!" she said.
"So am I," he quipped, grinning. "Ok, ok" he added as she punched his arm, reminding himself once again never to get into a serious fight with her.. "Owwww, Wednesday after your last class. Want me to pick you up?" he added as he opened the door to the mansion and followed her in.
"Hmmm, maybe you should," she said. "I think I'd just as soon meet your parents with you there."
"Well, it's not like I wouldn't be there otherwise," he jokingly reminded her, but he could sense that something was bothering her. "What's wrong? Is Wednesday not good for you? I mean, my parents have no lives, unless you count my mother's bridge club - we could do it another day."
"No, Wednesday's fine; besides, I'll need to get some packing done, and my schedule on Thursday and Friday is really light, even with the work I still need to make up. It's just - Bobby, is your dad going to make a fuss over me being Jewish?" she asked, and he could see that she was bracing herself for him to say yes.
Bobby stopped walking and began laughing. "Not if he knows what's good for him," he choked out. Noticing the uncomprehending look on Kitty's face, he added, "My mom's Jewish. If he were to make a stink about it, and I can't imagine why he would, she'll have a few choice things to say to him. I almost wish he would, it'd be hilarious."
"Your mom's Jewish? You never told me that," she said, and he shrugged.
"It never came up. I'm not really much of anything," he admitted, hoping that it wouldn't matter to her. "What about you? I mean, are you practicing?"
"Not really," she conceded. "But I don't hide it either," she added, fingering the silver Star of David that hung from a chain around her neck. "I just wondered - I mean, I imagine your dad's not going to be too happy about you dating a mutant, let alone me moving in with you..."
"Hey," Bobby said, cutting her off. "My dad hasn't been happy about anything I've done in my life, but I'm pretty much past caring about it. Oh, it bugs me," he admitted as she opened her mouth to protest, "but he's not the one living my life. I am. The worst he can do is not invite me over for dinner, and while my mom cooks pretty well, I think I'd live. On the other hand," he said, pulling her close, "I'm not so sure I'd live without you, or at least I'm not sure I'd want to. So don't worry, ok? Besides, if there's a fight I'd back you over my dad any day...just give me enough time to find a video camera before you really tear into him. I'm guessing the footage would be incredible, and I'm sure Hank at least would buy a copy, he's been dying to tell my dad off for years!"
Kitty stared at him for a few seconds before shaking her head. "What is it I see in you again?" she asked.
"I dunno," he admitted. "I've been trying to figure that out for two weeks, now."
She just laughed, and they made their way up to his room. He had a few things to pack up, himself - he decided this time he was going to make a real break and take everything with him. He looked around, taking in the smoke-darkened hallways, the intermittent intercom devices, the stair railing on which you could still see the mended crack he and Hank had put in it roughhousing when they were teens. "This is where we used to live," he repeated to himself, putting his arm around Kitty's shoulders.
*****************************
Sunday Night, Drake Residence
"What do you mean, she's moving in with you?" William Drake was yelling at his only son. "You just met her what, a couple of days ago?"
"More like a couple of weeks, though we actually met back at Scott and Jean's wedding," Bobby said, gritting his teeth as he perched on the edge of his parents couch.. His father was taking the whole thing worse than he'd expected.
"Oh, it makes a lot more sense now!" his father said sarcastically, yanking up the footrest on his somewhat battered recliner. Bobby marveled that it was still intact; he was pretty sure it was the same one his father had favored when he was a kid, and the cracks in the faux leather supported that assumption. Given the workout his father gave that footrest when he was upset, he'd have expected the mechanism to have broken years ago. "You finally break free of that damned lifestyle, and now you're taking it with you? Damn it, what are you thinking? You've finally got a normal life, a job - how long do you think that's likely to last? She's going to pull you right back into it, mark my words..."
"Now, William, he said Kitty's a college student," Madelyne corrected him, and Bobby cast her a grateful look. "She isn't running around in spandex anymore either."
"Sounds to me like she's just trying to sponge free rent of our son while she takes a break from it all," his father grumbled. "And she's all of what, seventeen? How the hell is she in college at that age?"
"I was," Bobby reminded him irritably. "And besides, she's nineteen, not seventeen. And as for sponging rent off of me, she's doing computer consulting; she's likely to be making as much money as I am, if not more."
"I suppose Xavier's paying her tuition..." his father grumbled, totally ignoring Bobby's previous comment as there wasn't anything left there for him to complain about. Bobby felt his internal temperature dropping, and forced it back up again - he really couldn't afford another "attack" right now. That would be all his father needed...
"Actually, no," Bobby retorted, pulling himself back into the conversation and noting that his father was still uncomfortable about his inability to finance Bobby's college education. He'd never been one to accept help graciously. "Kitty's got a full scholarship."
"To NYSE?" his mother gasped. "That's - quite impressive."
"Probably some sort of minority thing, Maddy," his dad insisted.
"Actually, no, it's academic. Why, is it so hard to believe that a girl with intelligence would be interested in me?" Bobby asked accusingly.
"Based on who you've dated before, yes! I still cringe when I think of that other dingbat you brought home. This one isn't Japanese, is she?"
"No, she's from Illinois," Bobby said irritably, wishing his father hadn't alluded to his first meeting with Opal. Suddenly visualizing the exchange, but with Kitty as the object of his father's attack, his temperature plummeted about forty degrees. He saw his mother pull her gray cardigan closer around her, and his father glared at him.
"Could you stop that, please?" he growled. "Damn it, this isn't a carnival -"
"We don't need a freak show. Thanks for the support, Dad," Bobby retorted sarcastically as he began to shiver. "But no, I can't stop this; believe me, I would if I could."
"Are you alright?" his mother asked hesitantly. She looked frightened, and Bobby realized that it had to be quite a shock for her, seeing him cold for the first time since his mutation had fully surfaced - it'd taken her all the intervening years to get used to the fact that he was "never" cold.
"I'm - okay Mom. Really," he assured her. "My body's just having some trouble adjusting to my powers returning, that's all. Hank says it'll go away," he added, knowing his mother was thoroughly convinced that Henry McCoy knew everything.
"Just don't freeze everyone out of the house," his father said, standing up and walking out of the room, his left lag dragging slightly.
"Your father's having a hard time with his leg when the temperature changes," his mother explained weakly, coming over and draping a blanket around his shoulders, pulling her hand away abruptly. "Bobby, you're freezing! Are you sure this is normal? Maybe you should call Hank..." she added, bustling towards the crocheted doily on the end table where the cordless phone was lying.
"No, really Mom, it'll be okay," he assured her, his teeth chattering. "It's happened a few times; I'll get it under control once I calm down."
"If you're sure," she replied doubtfully, her hand lingering near the phone. "Is there something I can do?"
"Not really," he replied, forcing a smile. His mom never changed. He half expected her to offer chicken soup - on second thought, that might not be a bad idea. "Well, yeah, now that you mention it. Do we have a can of soup, or some tea or something?"
"Canned soup? You must be joking," she scolded, and he laughed. "I've got some chicken soup in the freezer, though - I can have some warmed up in a couple of minutes. Lukewarm, I suppose?" she asked disapprovingly, knowing his usual tendency to avoid things that were actually hot.
"Nope, normal soup temperature," he said, and saw her eyebrows go up. "Yeah, I know, mark it on the calendar. Seriously though, I don't like it that way, but it'll help get my temperature up."
"I'll be right back," she assured him, and bustled off to the kitchen, leaving him alone with his blanket. Still shivering, he grabbed the afghan off the back of the couch and wrapped that around him as well, remembering how often he'd done the same thing as an early teen. His mother must have been thinking the same thing as she came back in the room, because she laughed uncomfortably.
"Somehow, I never thought I'd see you like this again," she said, the pitch of her voice raising as if requesting reassurance that everything would resolve itself, just as it had the first time.
"Yeah, me either," he replied, patting the seat of the couch next to him. "Come on Mom, sit down."
Reluctantly, she came over and sat down near him on the couch. "This Kitty..." she began, then stopped, looking closely at his face. "You really like her, don't you?"
Bobby could feel the grin forming on his face, and knew his eyes were glassing over. He pictured her as he'd seen her the night before; her skin turned gold and reddish highlights he'd never noticed before glistening in her hair from the candlelight in his - no, their - apartment, stepping out of her dress which she'd phased to the floor. A VERY useful application of her power, he had to admit. He felt his temperature leap several degrees; hmm, that was something to keep in mind in case this happened again...wrenching himself away from his reminiscence, he turned his attention back to his mother.
"Yeah Mom, I do."
"I'm really looking forward to meeting her," she said, smoothing the skirt of her dress self-consciously. "Are you sure, though - your father's right, you know. You've built a normal life for yourself away from all of that," her vague gesture brushing aside all super-heroics, evil mutants, and spandex uniforms. "Isn't it going to be more difficult to leave it behind if there're two of you? And things are moving rather quickly..."
"It's not like we're getting married, Mom," he replied, and laughed as she glared at him. He took her hand, trying not to feel hurt as she instinctively pulled it away from the lingering cold. "But, well, it just feels right. You'll like her, I know you will. And, well, let's face it mom - where am I likely to find a relationship with someone outside the mutant community who'll be able to deal with things like this?" he added, holding up the edge of the blanket and afghan as evidence.
His mother sighed and nodded. "I know, it's just hard, even after all these years. Your father and I - I think we're just too old to accept all the changes. When we were your age, no one had even heard of all this mutant menace nonsense - I'm not sure anyone had even heard of mutants."
"Well, other than those mutants who existed then..." Bobby joked, but
his mother just shook her head.
"I know, I know. There were some, I'm sure, but no one talked
about them. But now - everywhere I go, I hear people talking about
nothing else. It quieted down a bit when your powers were gone, but
it didn't stop even then. I worry about you," she added, taking his
hand this time and linking her fingers through his own. "So does
your father, more than he wants to admit. He loves you, you know."
"Yeah, I know - If I ever had any doubts, they disappeared when he stood up for mutants on live TV. I love him too. It's just - I can't be who he wants me to be, Mom. I'm NOT normal - never will be. I want a normal life; a job, a girlfriend, eventually a wife and kids; but there's always going to have to be some leeway in the definition of "normal". He laughed suddenly, and saw her jump, as if she'd been lost in her own thoughts. "Just thinking," he assured her. "Kitty and I were talking about it, a couple of weeks ago. I want "normal", but I don't know that I want to "be" normal. I really hated having to fill the ice tray in the freezer with water and "wait" for icecubes..."
"You're awful!" she said, pulling her hand back and playfully slapping him. "Now I know who kept forgetting to refill the trays - and here I kept blaming your father!" A beeping sound from the kitchen announced that the microwave was finished warming his soup, and she stood up. "I hope you meant it about the soup - it should be good and hot," she cautioned.
"That's fine," he assured her, standing up and leaving the blanket behind on the couch. The shivering had stopped as his body had gradually returned to a temperature it considered more "normal", but he still felt cold. He wondered, absently, when this was going to stop. He also wished, following his mother into the kitchen, that he had a more exciting method of warming up available than hot chicken soup. Damn, it was only six hours and he missed Kitty already.
*********************
Monday evening, Drake Residence, Bobby's Room
"Hmmm? Oh yeah, everything's ok here. How are things at Mutant High?" he asked, plopping back on his bed, his hand absently playing with the phone cord as he looked around his room, trying to decide what to put into boxes and what to just get rid of. He'd decided not to tell Kitty about his temperature-dropping episode the night before, or about how cool his dad had been since their argument. No reason for her to worry about either.
"Ok, I guess," Kitty replied. "Not much going on - I wasn't here most of the day, I had classes. Sarah showed up today in pretty bad shape; she was off on a trip with her boyfriend and some of his friends when the field went off, and one of them didn't take it too well when bones started popping through her skin and beat the crap out of her. Or so I heard - she's been hiding in her room since I got home, I haven't seen her myself."
"I'm surprised she didn't skewer him," Bobby replied, wincing at the thought of an angry Marrow.
"Yeah, me too," Kitty admitted. "It took her completely by surprise, I guess - she didn't even realize it was happening at first, I mean, she dealt with the pain for so long it's like background noise. Ororo says she'll be all right, but that she's really upset about our role in the whole thing."
"Can't blame her," Bobby answered, sitting up. "We blew her one chance at a normal life."
"Yeah." They were both silent for a while, then Bobby spoke, changing the subject as he saw something lying on the floor in the corner of his closet, and went over to pick it up. "Hey, guess what I just found!" he said with forced lightheartedness.
"What?"
"An old photo album. Wait'll you see this - I got pictures of Scott and Jean in here that are just hilarious. I wondered where it went. And there's Hank - damn, he bought the strangest clothes back then, though I guess I shouldn't talk - and Warren miming putting a stick up Scott's butt, that's a good one...oh, and here's Jean sunbathing in a swimsuit with Warren, Hank and Scott nonchalantly hanging around, that's pretty good. Hmm, even got one of Alex and Lorna - wonder why I took that? It's not like I'd have wanted a picture of them together back then..." He peered closer at the out-of-focus picture, and laughed. "Oh yeah, that blur in the corner is Hank sneaking up on them with the hose. That was priceless - "
"So, are you packing or spending the whole time flipping through stuff?" Kitty asked, laughing, and he wished she was there, flipping through it with him.
"A little of both," he admitted, still flipping through the photo album. "I spent most of the day on the phone with my customers; got a couple of things lined up for the rest of the week and a big project coming up soon. They're getting new accounting software - hey, maybe I should recommend you for that part!" he said, tossing the photo album onto the pile on his bed and leaning forward excitedly.
"Me? I don't know anything about accounting software!" she laughed.
"Maybe not, but I'm betting you could figure it out. They don't like their vendor's support person; I bet they'd jump at the chance to use someone else. What do you think? Are you up for it? I mean, you could use the business, just starting out, and they're a pretty big firm..."
"I guess," she said hesitantly, and he chuckled. He could almost hear her mind churning. "You'll have to tell me more about it. Do you need an answer now?"
"Nah, I won't talk to them again until next week anyway, unless they have some sort of emergency," he replied as he brushed some miscellaneous stuff on his dresser into a mostly-full box labeled "Junk". "I'll send you the info on the software package, if you want."
"I guess - I'm really more of a hardware specialist," she said, and he could hear something unexpected in her voice - anxiety. "I don't know, Bobby, maybe it's not such a good idea, I mean, I really don't know anything about having my own business, or computer systems in normal business environments..."
"Kitty?"
"What?"
"You're starting to sound like me. Knock it off. Whatever happened to the "Goddess of Computing" you told me about?"
He heard her laugh on the other end of the phone. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you? I should never have told you about that."
"Oh, it wouldn't have mattered - I've got a new source for Excalibur gossip," he teased. And he did. He'd talked to Rahne a few times before she and Moira left to return to Scotland; the girl was a virtual font of funny incidents, once he'd gotten her to relax. Which hadn't taken long, all things considered; the redhead was so excited about his ridiculous performance in the medlab that she'd been willing to talk his ears off, thrilled that he'd gotten Kitty out of her "funk".
"Oh sure, go behind my back," she joked, and he was relieved to hear her sounding more like herself.
"Honestly, Kit - I think you could handle it, with a little front end research. I considered doing it myself, but I really don't want to get into that sort of work - well, that and I don't have your knack with databases. If something "did" go wrong, I'd be royally screwed. Hank told me about what you did with his Legacy system; if you can improve on something Hank built, just knowing how he customizes everything, I'm confident you could handle the migration of some accounting data."
"Yeah, I suppose," she answered reluctantly, "Just send me whatever info you've got, ok? I want to look it over before you talk to them."
"Fair enough," he agreed, wandering over to his desk, pulling the phone base along with him when the cord was stretched past its limits, wincing as it bounced on the floor behind him. "Remind me to pick up a cordless phone, ok?"
Kitty chuckled. "No prob. Oh, and Jean says we're welcome to any furniture that's in the storage areas."
"Great, we can decorate our apartment in abused student furniture," he replied, rolling his eyes and picturing the condition of the furniture in storage. "Oh, what the hell - tell her thanks, we'll take the offer. We can always replace the stuff later."
"Yeah, that's kind of what I figured. I mean, it's better than an empty apartment..."
"Well, we did ok in the empty apartment the other night, didn't we?" he asked in what he hoped was a suggestive tone.
"Hmmm, yeah," she replied warmly. "But I'd just as soon we have a mattress - the floor was kind of hard. Anyway, Bobby, I gotta get going - I've got some homework to finish up."
"Yeah, I should go too," he added, glancing around his box-stridden room. "I think packing's going to take me a bit longer than I'd expected. Talk to you tomorrow?"
"Probably not," she answered reluctantly. "I've got classes all morning, a lab to do in the afternoon, and an exam to make up tomorrow night - it was the only time the Prof was free. But I'll see you Wednesday, right?"
"It's a date," he replied, optimistically hoping that it would turn out at least as well as the one on which they'd been captured by the Neo. "I miss you, you know," he said finally.
"Yeah, I miss you too," she replied sadly. "Look at it this way - by this time next week you'll probably be totally sick of me."
"Never happen," he assured her. "See you Wednesday, then? Send me an e-mail with your schedule, so I don't forget where to find you, ok?"
"Can do. And Bobby?"
"Yeah?" he said, picking up some CDs that had fallen behind his disk and setting them back on top.
"Love you."
"Love you too, Kit," he answered, then pressed the hang-up button on the phone. He stood there, holding it in his hand and staring at it for a few moments, a silly grin on his face. Finally, he set it back down on its base, and turned his attention back to packing.
*********************************
Wednesday afternoon, New York School of Engineering, Applied Sciences Building
"You look great!" Bobby said, as Kitty came out of her classroom. He slid his arm around her shoulders, planting a quick kiss on the top of her head, and they moved out of the way of the flood of students coming out the door. She was wearing a pair of black pants; not exceptionally dressy, but a far cry from the slightly baggy jeans she normally favored for school, and she'd topped it with a blue and black sweater. A jacket slung casually over her shoulder attested to the cool weather outside; Bobby was carrying one himself, more as a prop than because he actually needed it. Discreet gold hoops hung from her ears, and she had her hair pulled back into a clip at the back of her head.
"Is it ok? I wasn't sure how dressed up I should get..." she said nervously, fiddling with a strand of hair that had escaped from the clip. "You look nice, too, but tired," she added, peering at his face.
"It's perfect," he assured her, ignoring the look of concern on her face. He didn't really want to talk about his lack of sleep, or the reasons for it. There hadn't been any more blow-ups with his dad, but only because William Drake was completely ignoring his son's existence. Now out of the traffic pattern, he stopped and turned to look at her, then placed his hand behind her head and pulled her in for a kiss. "Don't worry - if it gets too nightmarish we'll make a break for it."
"Oh, NOW I feel better!" she said, laughing. "I take it your parents aren't too receptive?"
"Half right," he admitted. "My mom's practically ready to start planning our wedding, so no problem there - she's prepared to love anyone who'll put up with me, she's just afraid you'll come to your senses."
"And your dad?" Kit asked.
"Umm, well, hopefully he'll be on his best behavior?" Bobby hedged, and Kitty raised her eyebrows.
"What aren't you telling me?" she asked suspiciously.
"Well, nothing that you aren't already worried about," he replied, brushing his hair back out of his eyes. "My dad's just likely to be acting like my dad, that's all. Seriously though," he said with concern as he saw Kitty's hesitance, and remembered she'd heard about his father's first meeting with Rogue, "if you want to skip this, I understand. I mean..."
"Nah, gotta do it sooner or later," she said, linking her arm through his. "Might as well get it over with."
"Famous last words," he said under his breath, crossing the fingers of his other hand under his coat, where it wouldn't be obvious.
*******************************
Wednesday Evening, Drake Residence
"So, this is the Kitty I've been hearing so much about!" Bobby's mother gushed as they came in the door. "Come on in, let me have your coat - I'll go hang it up."
Mindful of his mother's presence, and the likely outcome if she saw him not 'minding his manners', Bobby tried to help Kitty take off her coat, failed miserably, and cast a grateful look at the back of her head as she unobtrusively phased out of it. Handing it and his own to his mother who was oblivious to what Kitty had done, he took Kitty's arm and led her into the living room where his dad was sitting, pretending to be engrossed in whatever program was on TV and with the footrest of his recliner already up.
"Dad?" he said hesitantly. "I'd like you to meet Kitty."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Drake," Kitty said, extending her hand.
His father grunted in reply, not even taking his eyes off the television, and Kitty dropped her hand to her side.
"Dad?" When there was no reply, Bobby irritably called out, "Hey, Mom - I think you'd better call 911 - Dad's superglued his eyes to the TV again."
"William, be polite!" his mother called out from the hallway, and his father dropped the footrest and spun the chair to look at them.
"Seems to me you could be a bit more polite yourself - you still act like a damned kid, demanding attention." He stood up and looked Kitty over. "Well, gotta admit you're not what I expected - no gloves, no skunk streak. Or are you wearing one of those whatchamacallits - image inducers - like Hank does nowadays?"
"No, what you see is what you get," Kitty said, extending her hand once again. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Drake."
"Yeah, so you said," his father grumbled, taking her hand reluctantly, and jumped backwards as she phased hers through his own. Bobby stifled a laugh, only partially successfully.
"I figured your next question would be what I do - I know Bobby told you I'm a mutant," Kitty said nonchalantly as he stared at her.
"You're a ghost?" his father asked, trying to cover his own reaction, but rubbing his hand unconsciously against his leg.
"Only when I want to be," Kitty replied, smiling. She bent down and picked up the TV remote that had fallen off the arm of the recliner when his father had stood up, and handed it to him. "Here - I think you dropped this," she said. He saw his father relax visibly as she deliberately brushed his fingers with her own tangible ones when she handed it to him.
"And what do you do with it?" his father asked suspiciously. "Seems like you could have quite a career in breaking and entering."
Kitty laughed delightedly. "Yeah, that's been pointed out before. And I won't deny I've done it, with the X-Men - it saved on the frontal assaults and lessened the property damage, after all. But it comes in handy in other scenarios as well - I'm the only computer tech I know who can fix something inside a computer without removing the case."
Bobby could see the corners of his father's mouth creeping upward as he turned to set the remote back down on the table, but when he turned back to face them directly he looked as sour as before. "So, you work on computers? We've got one of the things - it collects dust unless Maddy's online sending e-mail or trying to type up her recipes."
"Does she have a program for it?" Kitty asked curiously. "There are some nice ones out there, or you can set up a simple database to handle it - then she could just print out whichever she wanted."
William Drake's eyebrows raised. "How would you know about that? I would've thought you'd be busy hacking into other people's computers, or setting up those 'danger room' sessions Bobby and Hank like to brag about. You're not going to tell me you like to cook?"
Kitty just chuckled. "Not me, no - I can't make toast without burning it, though I make great ramen. But Rahne - she's one of the girls I was in Excalibur with - she liked to cook, and never could keep track of her recipe cards. I set her up a system to keep track of them. It was no big deal."
"Hmm, if you could do it for Maddy you'd save me a lot of headaches, listening to her complain about them not printing out on the damn 3x5 cards," he said, and Bobby relaxed. He wasn't sure why he'd been so nervous; Kitty had wrapped him around her little finger easily enough, why not his dad? Unless things somehow deteriorated into a screaming match, it should be downhill from here.
His mom chose that moment to walk into the room. "Supper should be ready in a bit; I turned the temperature up on the roast. I was afraid something would come up," she added apologetically. "Bobby has a real knack for getting home late."
"I'll keep that in mind," Kitty said, glancing at Bobby and grinning. He smirked back at her, and saw Kitty turn back to his mother. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Not sure I'd take her up on it," Bobby heard his father say, with something that sounded almost like amusement in his voice. "She just admitted she can't make toast."
"Well, neither can you," his mother responded, winking at Kitty. "But I'll bet she can peel potatoes. Come on, dear, we'll find you an apron - no sense getting that pretty sweater ruined."
Bobby watched Kitty follow his mother into the kitchen, casting a sideways glance at his father, who he was surprised to see was watching them as well. Catching his glance, his father turned to face him instead.
"Seems to have her head on pretty straight," he said gruffly.
"Yeah, aside from dating me," Bobby replied.
"Well, your mother's got the same blind spot," his father said, shrugging. "And look at us - we've been married for sixty years. She's Jewish?"
Bobby was surprised by his father's question, until he remembered that Kitty's star of David, which she normally tucked into her top, had been hanging defiantly on the outside of her sweater.
"Yeah, why?"
"Your mom'll be happy, is all," his father said. "She'll finally have someone to celebrate Chanukah with who actually cares about it apart from the presents. She likes her already, I can tell. Otherwise she wouldn't let her into the kitchen. Never lets me in the damn kitchen."
"And what about you?" Bobby wanted to ask, but realized he already knew the answer.
"C'mon, sit down, the game's on," his father said, reseating himself in his recliner.
"Who's playing?" he asked as he sat down on the couch and wondering what his mother and Kitty were laughing about in the kitchen. He had the uncomfortable feeling that it might be him.
"Mets vs. the Cubs." His father said, and Bobby groaned, realizing he couldn't rule out a screaming match after all.
*****************************
Wednesday Night, Outside the Drake Residence
"Well, that was relatively painless," Kitty said as she cuddled back into his embrace outside on the front porch. They'd come outside for a few minutes after dinner to talk before Kitty said her goodbyes and Bobby took her back to the University to pick up Logan's motorcycle, and Bobby had his arms around her, her back against his chest.
"Yeah, aside from when you and my dad "discussed" the baseball game," Bobby replied, laughing.
"Well, he shouldn't have said that about the Cubs," she retorted with no hint of apology in her voice. "But he's not so bad - not most of the time, anyway," she clarified.
"He means well," Bobby sighed. "He just doesn't get it, and I don't think he ever will. Being a mutant isn't something I can just ignore, much as he'd like me to."
"No, we can't, can we?" Kitty asked. "Not easily, anyway. Your mom's worried about you," she added, turning around to face him, and reaching up to touch his face. "Why didn't you tell me about your temperature drop?"
"Didn't want you to worry," he mumbled into her hair, taking in the smell of strawberries and the underlying scent of dragon, and wondering why he found the combination so intoxicating.
She pulled back a bit to look at him. "Didn't want me to tell Hank, more likely," she said accusingly. "How bad was it? It sounded awful - was your mother exaggerating?"
"Maybe," Bobby hedged. "She does sometimes." Kitty glared at him, and he shrugged. "I got it under control - it was just one of those stress-based ones."
"How bad?" she asked again, and he knew he wasn't going to get out of this without telling her the truth.
"Umm, about sixty, sixty five degrees, total. Not quite that bad until my dad made the comment about the freak show," he replied, shrugging. "That dropped it an extra twenty."
"Why didn't you call Hank? That's a LOT worse than it was last time!" Kitty practically shouted, and Bobby put his finger to her mouth.
"Hey, let's not wake the neighbors, ok? Or get my mom all upset? I told her it'd happened before, but if you make a fuss she won't believe me, and she'll be a basket case. Besides, it hasn't been two weeks - Hank said to let him know if it was still happening in two weeks, remember? It's only been one."
"Yeah well, I don't think he was expecting it to get worse," she argued, but she lowered her voice. "You should have called him."
"I probably should have," he admitted. "But I got it under control - by the way, thinking about you is a great way to bring my temperature back up!"
"You're not joking your way out of this one," she accused him, but he saw her smile a little. "He just wants to run some lab work - what's the big deal?"
"No, he wants me to break out the inhibitor belt," Bobby said quietly, and saw Kitty's eyes widen with surprise. "He didn't want to say anything in front of you, but he recommended I 'attempt to determine its whereabouts' before I left. Needless to say, I'm not real thrilled with the idea." Not thrilled was an understatement, he knew. The past few nights, he'd been having nightmares about Loki and the damn "power enhancer"/torture device he'd been strapped into, waking up shaking from fear and shivering from self-inflicted cold.
"Why not? It wouldn't be for long, after all, and you'd still have access to your powers," Kitty asked, looking confused.
Bobby sighed, not really sure how to reply, and ran his hand through his hair again. "Kitty, the last time I had it I wore it for nearly a year. I really don't want to do that again, not if I can control it on my own."
Kitty was silent for a few moments, studying his face. "I can understand that," she said, and he could see the concern that was clouding her eyes. "But, you told me when we were with the Neo that there was nothing so important that I should endanger myself to prove a point. Wouldn't an inhibitor belt be better than freezing?"
"Matter of opinion," he joked feebly. "I've spent a lot of my life frozen, after all..."
Kitty looked in his eyes again, then pulled him into her arms. They stood there, not speaking, for several minutes, and Bobby felt his eyes growing damp. He hadn't considered this possibility when they'd introduced the Neo to the X-Men; never thought about how it had taken him over a year to get full control of his powers once they'd been enhanced, and that it might take that long again. For that matter, there'd been a lot of things they all hadn't considered; what had happened to Marrow was only one example. Sure, they'd "saved" Logan and the Neo, but at what cost to everyone else?
"Just promise me that if it gets too bad you'll talk to Hank?" Kitty finally said, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes.
"I promise," Bobby assured her. "But..."
"No buts," she scolded, then softened. "Well, one, but it's mine - it's your decision what you want to do, but no matter happens, I'll still be there, ok? One less thing for you to worry about, and knowing you, you will."
"I have been," he admitted, then jumped as the porch light suddenly went on.
"Are you two coming in?" his father asked, sticking his head out the door. "Let's not give the neighbors a free show - I've got to live here, even if the two of you don't.
Linking his fingers with Kitty's warmer ones, Bobby took one last glance
around the quiet suburban street before walking with her past his father
and into the house.