The Blackbird was overcrowded with Flannigans. My mother, Deena, Riley,
Theresa, and myself outnumbered the rest of the passengers. Ryan was there
too of course, and the other mutants, but still there was an overwhelming
amount of Irish. My mom was clutching her rosary and praying fervently, and
I saw Kurt giving her concerned glances. She'd refused to be teleported,
and had turned an ankle in the fallow field. It had swollen up rather
spectacularly. I'd asked Ryan to heal it, but he said that she'd be fine in
a few hours, and to put some ice on it. So that's what we'd done.
The silence in the plane was oppressive. The only noise was the hum of the engines, the various beeps coming from the controls, and the sound of Riley's headphones. His head bobbed in time with the music, and I found myself wondering what on earth had let mom agree to him dying his hair that particular shade of green. He kept it short, and spiky. It looked horrible against his skin, and made me think of a giant leprechaun. He was dressed in a long sleeve thermal shirt, with a black T-shirt over it. The T-shirt had "The Violent Femmes" scrawled across it in what looked like white fabric paint. His jeans were those huge legged jeans that reminded me of a circus tent, in dark blue, and one pant leg had a flaming skull patch ascending it. The skull was on his thigh, and the flames extended all the way to the hem. He was wearing them slung low on his hips, and had a myriad of chains hanging from one side down just past his knees. They were thick, and heavy, and I wondered what they were for.
I turned my attention to Deena. Her tongue flickered out briefly, showing the bright silver dot of the barbell she had going through her tongue. I blinked in surprise. There were silver hoops climbing up both of her ears, and at some point she'd gotten her nose pierced as well. Her hair was a lovely purple shade that actually went well with her skin. It was slightly spiky in the front, then fell in a smooth cascade in the back just past her shoulders. She was wearing a black tank top, bra straps showing, and over that a fishnet shirt. Her pants were of a similar style to Riley's, but they were pitch black, and had simple straps like suspenders that crossed behind her legs. The name came to me abruptly, bondage pants. They were covered in zippers and pockets, and accentuated the flare of her hips and the narrowness of her waist. She was growing up to resemble Theresa a good bit, and I was amazed that mom let her go around like that. Her makeup was heavy, dark, with thick black lines around her eyes, deep purple eyeshadow, and lipstick a deep shade of plum. She looked positively morose, but I knew better than that.
"We're almost there." Scott said. "There's the school now." He pointed, but I didn't bother to look. I waited until we'd touched down in the hanger, then unfastened my harness. Kurt gave me a reassuring smile, then teleported out of his harness and to the back to open the ramp down. I heard my mother gasp. She'd grown pale, and I watched as she crossed herself. A surge of irritation rose in me, and I throttled it down ruthlessly.
"Well, let's go." I said. I herded my family to the ramp and down into the hanger. Not surprisingly, Xavier was waiting there. My mom stopped short when she saw him, and my siblings just sort of milled about.
"Welcome." He said calmly. "My name is Charles Xavier, and I'll be your host for the duration of your stay. Welcome to my home."
"Professor," I said, "thank you for meeting us here."
"It is my pleasure, Morgan."
"Thank you very much Professor Xavier," my mother said stiffly. Oh boy, she was not happy at all.
"Please, call me Charles, Mrs. Flannigan. Only my students stand on such formality." Xavier smiled winningly. "Please, allow me to show you to your rooms. I'll be happy to supply you with anything you may need."
"Call me Margaret." My mom said. "You said students?"
"Yes. This is primarily a school." Xavier said.
"What kind of school?" Deena asked. She was standing on the balls of her feet, I could tell that she was nervous.
"A school for the Gifted." Charles said. "A school for young people not unlike yourself, Deena Flannigan. Or you, Riley."
That got their attention. I could almost see the wheels click into place for them. I knew they were having the same thoughts I had. I shook my head and chuckled to myself silently. If the professor was trying to recruit those two, he'd have his hands full. Both of them were metamorphs. Riley was somewhat limited in his choices. He was strictly animals, and of those animals, only herbivores. Deer, moose, antelope, horses, sheep, all of these were his territory. However, he could do a variety of half forms. When he was fourteen, on Halloween he turned himself into an honest to god minotour and went trick or treating . I thought my dad was going to kill him. Deena was the predator of the two. She had a tendency to prefer the great cats, and had even managed to take a form halfway between a lion and a person, but it had taken her three years to do it, and she couldn't hold it for very long. For her, it was all or nothing. It's very disconcerting, waking up with a panther on the foot of your bed. Both of them were practical jokers and smart alecs, and they usually created more chaos than a bull in a china shop. I pitied any school that ended up with them.
"How did you know our names?" They asked in unison.
Xavier tapped the side of his head with his finger, and said "I have a few gifts myself."
The twins exchanged a glance, and I cringed inwardly. Maybe bringing them here hadn't been the best idea.
We gathered up our luggage, and Charles led us out of the hanger, chatting amicably with my Mother. The twins fell in behind them with Ryan and Theresa after, and then Kurt and I brought up the rear. It took two trips to get us up the elevators, and Charles left us at the foot of the grand staircase in the foyer. "I'm sorry, but something's just been brought to my attention. I'm afraid I'm going to have to go take care of it now. Kurt can show you to suitable rooms." He said. "Dinner will be in about an hour, so you have some time to freshen up if you would like. Deena, Riley, if you like I can send some of my students by, and you can have dinner with them-"
"Yes please!" The twins said in unison, both grinning broadly. Charles smiled indulgently and said a polite goodbye, leaving Kurt and I alone with my loved ones.
"Well, alright then." I said. "Follow Kurt everyone." I saw my mom hesitate, then she gave herself a firm shake and followed him up the stairs.
Kurt's tail was twisting and corkscrewing absently, and I chuckled. He led us to the second floor, then down the hall to the third door on the left. "I think the twins will be comfortable here, I hope they don't mind sharing."
Riley shrugged. "Nah. We share a room at home. It's kinda weird when she's not there with me, ya know?" he slunk into the room, duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
"Though it's nice sometimes if I don't have to deal with his snoring," Deena whispered to Kurt. Then, much to my surprise she put his arms around his neck and hugged him, then gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "And that's for saving my sister." She said, then giggled. "Furry!"
She left him standing surprised in the hallway, and shut the door firmly behind her. There was a pause, and then I heard her squeal with delight "We have our own bathroom!"
I smiled at Ryan and my mom. Ryan was leaning against the wall, hands buried deep in his pockets. The strap of his gym bag was across his chest, and he looked tired. Mom was practically wringing her hands, she was so nervous. I'd never seen her this wound up before, and it worried me. Mom ended up in the room across from my siblings, and she went in so fast I could feel the wind of her passing from six feet away. Theresa heaved a great sigh and said "I'll stay with mom Kurt. She needs someone I think." I gave her a grateful glance and made a mental note to find her a fabulous christmas gift.
That just left Kurt, Ryan and I. I glanced from one, and then the other. There was a tension there that I didn't remember being there before. It may have had something to do with how Ryan was looking at me. It was heated, almost sultry, like he wanted me all over again. It had been a very long time since he'd looked at me that way. For a long time, I'd longed for that look. Now, it just made me sigh.
Kurt was looking a bit uncomfortable, a bit lost. He kept casting furtive directions in my direction. Finally, to break the silence, he said "Well, time's wasting. Let's get you to your rooms, shall we?"
"Yeah." Ryan said softly. He pushed himself away from the wall, and we followed Kurt. "Thanks Kurt," He said, when we stopped in front of a door three down from my mothers. He opened the door, and stepped into the room. "Morgan, would you, ah." He paused awkwardly. I saw Kurt go rigid, that brave, confident mask already sliding into place.
I closed the distance between Kurt and I and slipped an arm around his waist. Gently, I rested my head against his shoulder, and kept my eyes on Ryan. Kurt hesitated for only a moment before slipping his arm around my shoulders. His tail brushed against the small of my back lightly, and I nearly shivered. "No thanks, Ryan." I said. "I've got other arrangements."
Ryan stared for a moment, then blushed and scrubbed a hand through his sandy blonde hair. "Well, shit." He said. "I blew it huh? All this time, you were right there. Now that I'm seeing it, it's too late." He gave a rueful laugh.
And then I knew what he was talking about. I disentangled myself from Kurt, and hugged Ryan. "Ry, sweetie, you are NOT in love with me." I said.
"But-"
"No." I pressed a finger to his lips firmly. "You are not in love with me. You are scared of losing me, and that's making you feel a bit more strongly than usual. Hun, you're an empath. You should know the real thing when it hits you."
For a long moment he simply stared at me. His eyes flickered to Kurt, and widened a bit. Then, he nodded. "Your right. Of course your right, Morgan. You always are." He hugged me back, and the tension I'd been feeling before suddenly evaporate. Now, we were just three friends. "I'll see you at dinner." He said, and stepped into his room, shutting the door behind him.
Kurt raised an eyebrow at me. "Arrangements?" He asked slyly. I blushed, and tossed my suitcase at him. I was lucky that my parents had thought to pack some of my old clothes for me. Apparently, my apartment was still under police tape, and the FBI wasn't letting it go easily.
"Make yourself useful, and carry that." I said teasingly.
"I can carry more than that, Fräulein Flannigan," he grinned impishly at me, then transferred the suitcase from hand to tail. I had a moment to realize what he was up to when he charged at me, slinging me over his shoulder and bounding down the hallway in a surprisingly smooth lope. I must have screamed, or made some kind of noise, because I saw my sister's head poke out the door. She saw what was going on, and I saw her grin broadly as we dashed past her.
"Give him hell sis!" She crowed, and I was absolutely mortified. My little sister! Then, she vanished from view as we rounded a corner and ascended the stairs. He carried me that way all the way to another room a few doors down from his, and slid inside. Gently, he set me down on my feet, holding me steady as I got my bearings.
I looked around the room, and shivered. "Kurt," I said, "did they ever find out how that body got into my bathroom?" "Nein." He said. "We've increased security, and we've been trying to find the identity of the man, but what we have isn't matching anything in the FBI's missing persons reports."
I shivered again, and wrapped my arms around my self, rubbing them nervously. "Kurt, I don't want to stay in this room." It was too much like the other, and frankly, I don't think I was up to being alone.
"Well, we could find another room," he said, then offered uncertainly, "or, you could stay with your mother-"
I shook my head. "No, that would just be putting her in more danger. No Kurt, that won't work." I paused. "Could I stay with you?" I asked. "You seem capable of handling yourself, at the very least you'll be able to get away, and it would make me feel better, knowing you were there."
He stared at me seriously for a moment. "Morgan, are you sure that is a good idea? I mean, your mother, she-"
"I don't care." I said. "I'll sleep on the floor. I just don't want to be alone right now." Frankly, if my mom didn't pull it together soon, she and I were going to have to have a rather long, extended conversation. But for now, I just wanted to feel safe, and the only time I felt safe was when Kurt was with me.
Slowly, he nodded, and picked up my suitcase. "Ja, well, then I suppose you may stay with me. Though, for the record, I'll be the one sleeping on the floor." He grinned. "At least, we'll know I'm sleeping there. Who knows what everyone else will think?"
"I don't care about that either." I said. "Now, let's go back to your place." He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at me lasciviously. I laughed and let him lead me out the door and back to his room.
He cleared a spot on top of his cluttered dresser for my suitcase, and put it there for me. "Mein Haus ist Ihr Haus, Liebe," he said, "Bitte, make yourself at home."
I plopped down on the bed, and sighed. "Don't mind if I do."
He rummaged around in the dresser, and retrieved some clothing. "I really need to take a shower," he said, "Will you be okay on your own?"
"I'll be fine Kurt." I said. "I'll just take a nap or something. Sleep is such a wonderful thing."
He smiled, and vanished into the bathroom. I kicked off my shoes and stretched out on his bed-it was soft, and covered in blankets and pillows. Very non-masculine, but still very Kurt. It occurred to me he may not have much in the way of luxuries when he was younger, and that sometimes people liked to indulge themselves in certain ways. I slipped under the covers, and snuggled deep into the pillows. They smelled like him-a deep, musky, slightly sulfuric scent that thrilled through me. I sighed, and drifted off into dreamland.
When I awoke, I couldn't hear the water running anymore. The light from the room's single window had shifted, pooling in a golden square on the foot of the bed. I stretched, allowing myself to come to full awareness slowly. It was nice, because I hadn't been able to do that for a few days. I threw the covers off, and swung my legs to the floor, yawning slightly.
Kurt padded out of the bathroom, hair still dripping wet, with a smile on his face. There was a white towel around his shoulders, which he was using to mop his wet curls. He was wearing simple blue jeans, and I could see the waistband of his boxers over the waistline of his jeans. I was beginning to think he was using that look deliberately, for there were few things that could make me more weak in the knees than a partially clothed man that I'm attracted too. Even the body wasn't important. He could have been as soft and squishy as a sponge and I still would have wanted him. The fact remains though, that he wasn't, and I immediately had all sorts of naughty thoughts running through my head as soon as I clapped eyes on him.
Kurt stared at me for a moment, then through back his head and laughed. It was a rich sound, infectious, and I found myself giggling along with him even though I had no idea what was so funny. Finally, I had to ask. "What is so funny?" I asked, still giggling.
He shook his head. "Morgan, it has been a long, long time since a woman has looked at me like that, and I've been able to trust her motives for it." He said, still chuckling a bit.
"Like what?" I asked.
He searched for the right way to say it, then chortled "Like I'm on the menu."
It took a moment for what he said to sink in, and I felt a rush of heat to my cheeks. I was exceedingly grateful for the illusion that hid such things from him. Had I really been looking at him like that? Oh there was no doubt about it now, we knew that we were attracted to each other, that their might be something more, but the sexual tension was so thick in the room that moment that I don't think it could have been cut with a chain saw.
I didn't just want him. Oh no, in the span of heartbeats it took for me to rise to my feet, I needed him, the way I needed air to breath, or food, or water. Without him, I felt surely, surely I would die from it. I had to touch him, to roll the thickness of his hair between my fingers, feel the silken touch of his flesh against mine, feel our bodies press together, flesh melting to become one perfect person for one shining, bright moment.
I'd actually taken a few steps toward him when someone knocked on the door. I stumbled, eyes wide, heart pounding. Sweet Goddess, what was happening to me? Kurt was looking at me intently, his expression dark and hungry, and it made me shiver with delight.
I closed the distance between us and threw myself into his arms, pressing my lips to his, stealing the brief moment before he went to open the door. His arms crushed me to his chest, squeezed the breath out of me as I clung to him, desperate, wishing we had just a few moments for ourselves, for each other.
The knock on the door sounded again, and with great reluctance, he extracted himself from my grip. He held me firmly at arms length, and said in a breathy, shuddering voice "Don't move. Not an inch. I'll be right back."
I giggled, and trotted back to the bed, fully pleased that I know had confirmation that I affected him as much as he affected me. He paused before his door, rolling his shoulders and taking a deep breath as I brought my legs up on the bed and crossed them. Then, he opened the door. He used his body to block the doorway, effectively hiding me from view. "Mrs. Flannigan," he said, a bit too loudly. "What a pleasant surprise."
I swore internally. I loved my mom, I did, but I was not ready to confront her on how I felt about Kurt. Seeing me in his bedroom, with him half naked and my suitcase on his dresser would NOT be a good thing. I concentrated, throwing a light-bending illusion around myself, and my suitcase, effectively rending us invisible. Oh we were still there, it's just the particles of light in the air weren't hitting us anymore.
"Mr. Wagner," My mother said formally, "I'm very sorry for bothering you, but I simply had to speak with you. May I come in? It's rather urgent."
"Well, I-"Kurt glanced in the room, and nearly did a double take when he didn't see me. "Ah, yes. Please Mrs. Flannigan, come right in. Just let me grab a shirt, one moment." He went to his dresser and pulled out a black T- shirt, slipping it on as my mother came in. She closed the door behind her, hand pausing on the handle for a moment.
"Mr. Wagner, let me get right to the point." She said brusquely. It was almost a 180 from the nervous Nelly I'd helped off the plane.
"Please, call me Kurt." He said. "Would you like to sit down?"
"No, that won't be necessary. I don't plan on staying long." She said. Then, she smiled, and it was a smile full of malevolence. It was utterly, utterly evil, and chilled me down to the very bone. It was a look I had never expected to see on my mothers face. "We have unfinished business, you and I," she said, in a voice that was as unfamiliar to me as the arctic cold.
She pointed a finger at him, and made a downward slash. I saw his body jerk, and blood sprayed across the room. My vision narrowed to my mother's face, a line of splattered blood running diagonally across her face, her small pink tongue flickering out to taste it. Dimly, I heard a woman screaming, and realized with growing horror that it was me.
The silence in the plane was oppressive. The only noise was the hum of the engines, the various beeps coming from the controls, and the sound of Riley's headphones. His head bobbed in time with the music, and I found myself wondering what on earth had let mom agree to him dying his hair that particular shade of green. He kept it short, and spiky. It looked horrible against his skin, and made me think of a giant leprechaun. He was dressed in a long sleeve thermal shirt, with a black T-shirt over it. The T-shirt had "The Violent Femmes" scrawled across it in what looked like white fabric paint. His jeans were those huge legged jeans that reminded me of a circus tent, in dark blue, and one pant leg had a flaming skull patch ascending it. The skull was on his thigh, and the flames extended all the way to the hem. He was wearing them slung low on his hips, and had a myriad of chains hanging from one side down just past his knees. They were thick, and heavy, and I wondered what they were for.
I turned my attention to Deena. Her tongue flickered out briefly, showing the bright silver dot of the barbell she had going through her tongue. I blinked in surprise. There were silver hoops climbing up both of her ears, and at some point she'd gotten her nose pierced as well. Her hair was a lovely purple shade that actually went well with her skin. It was slightly spiky in the front, then fell in a smooth cascade in the back just past her shoulders. She was wearing a black tank top, bra straps showing, and over that a fishnet shirt. Her pants were of a similar style to Riley's, but they were pitch black, and had simple straps like suspenders that crossed behind her legs. The name came to me abruptly, bondage pants. They were covered in zippers and pockets, and accentuated the flare of her hips and the narrowness of her waist. She was growing up to resemble Theresa a good bit, and I was amazed that mom let her go around like that. Her makeup was heavy, dark, with thick black lines around her eyes, deep purple eyeshadow, and lipstick a deep shade of plum. She looked positively morose, but I knew better than that.
"We're almost there." Scott said. "There's the school now." He pointed, but I didn't bother to look. I waited until we'd touched down in the hanger, then unfastened my harness. Kurt gave me a reassuring smile, then teleported out of his harness and to the back to open the ramp down. I heard my mother gasp. She'd grown pale, and I watched as she crossed herself. A surge of irritation rose in me, and I throttled it down ruthlessly.
"Well, let's go." I said. I herded my family to the ramp and down into the hanger. Not surprisingly, Xavier was waiting there. My mom stopped short when she saw him, and my siblings just sort of milled about.
"Welcome." He said calmly. "My name is Charles Xavier, and I'll be your host for the duration of your stay. Welcome to my home."
"Professor," I said, "thank you for meeting us here."
"It is my pleasure, Morgan."
"Thank you very much Professor Xavier," my mother said stiffly. Oh boy, she was not happy at all.
"Please, call me Charles, Mrs. Flannigan. Only my students stand on such formality." Xavier smiled winningly. "Please, allow me to show you to your rooms. I'll be happy to supply you with anything you may need."
"Call me Margaret." My mom said. "You said students?"
"Yes. This is primarily a school." Xavier said.
"What kind of school?" Deena asked. She was standing on the balls of her feet, I could tell that she was nervous.
"A school for the Gifted." Charles said. "A school for young people not unlike yourself, Deena Flannigan. Or you, Riley."
That got their attention. I could almost see the wheels click into place for them. I knew they were having the same thoughts I had. I shook my head and chuckled to myself silently. If the professor was trying to recruit those two, he'd have his hands full. Both of them were metamorphs. Riley was somewhat limited in his choices. He was strictly animals, and of those animals, only herbivores. Deer, moose, antelope, horses, sheep, all of these were his territory. However, he could do a variety of half forms. When he was fourteen, on Halloween he turned himself into an honest to god minotour and went trick or treating . I thought my dad was going to kill him. Deena was the predator of the two. She had a tendency to prefer the great cats, and had even managed to take a form halfway between a lion and a person, but it had taken her three years to do it, and she couldn't hold it for very long. For her, it was all or nothing. It's very disconcerting, waking up with a panther on the foot of your bed. Both of them were practical jokers and smart alecs, and they usually created more chaos than a bull in a china shop. I pitied any school that ended up with them.
"How did you know our names?" They asked in unison.
Xavier tapped the side of his head with his finger, and said "I have a few gifts myself."
The twins exchanged a glance, and I cringed inwardly. Maybe bringing them here hadn't been the best idea.
We gathered up our luggage, and Charles led us out of the hanger, chatting amicably with my Mother. The twins fell in behind them with Ryan and Theresa after, and then Kurt and I brought up the rear. It took two trips to get us up the elevators, and Charles left us at the foot of the grand staircase in the foyer. "I'm sorry, but something's just been brought to my attention. I'm afraid I'm going to have to go take care of it now. Kurt can show you to suitable rooms." He said. "Dinner will be in about an hour, so you have some time to freshen up if you would like. Deena, Riley, if you like I can send some of my students by, and you can have dinner with them-"
"Yes please!" The twins said in unison, both grinning broadly. Charles smiled indulgently and said a polite goodbye, leaving Kurt and I alone with my loved ones.
"Well, alright then." I said. "Follow Kurt everyone." I saw my mom hesitate, then she gave herself a firm shake and followed him up the stairs.
Kurt's tail was twisting and corkscrewing absently, and I chuckled. He led us to the second floor, then down the hall to the third door on the left. "I think the twins will be comfortable here, I hope they don't mind sharing."
Riley shrugged. "Nah. We share a room at home. It's kinda weird when she's not there with me, ya know?" he slunk into the room, duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
"Though it's nice sometimes if I don't have to deal with his snoring," Deena whispered to Kurt. Then, much to my surprise she put his arms around his neck and hugged him, then gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "And that's for saving my sister." She said, then giggled. "Furry!"
She left him standing surprised in the hallway, and shut the door firmly behind her. There was a pause, and then I heard her squeal with delight "We have our own bathroom!"
I smiled at Ryan and my mom. Ryan was leaning against the wall, hands buried deep in his pockets. The strap of his gym bag was across his chest, and he looked tired. Mom was practically wringing her hands, she was so nervous. I'd never seen her this wound up before, and it worried me. Mom ended up in the room across from my siblings, and she went in so fast I could feel the wind of her passing from six feet away. Theresa heaved a great sigh and said "I'll stay with mom Kurt. She needs someone I think." I gave her a grateful glance and made a mental note to find her a fabulous christmas gift.
That just left Kurt, Ryan and I. I glanced from one, and then the other. There was a tension there that I didn't remember being there before. It may have had something to do with how Ryan was looking at me. It was heated, almost sultry, like he wanted me all over again. It had been a very long time since he'd looked at me that way. For a long time, I'd longed for that look. Now, it just made me sigh.
Kurt was looking a bit uncomfortable, a bit lost. He kept casting furtive directions in my direction. Finally, to break the silence, he said "Well, time's wasting. Let's get you to your rooms, shall we?"
"Yeah." Ryan said softly. He pushed himself away from the wall, and we followed Kurt. "Thanks Kurt," He said, when we stopped in front of a door three down from my mothers. He opened the door, and stepped into the room. "Morgan, would you, ah." He paused awkwardly. I saw Kurt go rigid, that brave, confident mask already sliding into place.
I closed the distance between Kurt and I and slipped an arm around his waist. Gently, I rested my head against his shoulder, and kept my eyes on Ryan. Kurt hesitated for only a moment before slipping his arm around my shoulders. His tail brushed against the small of my back lightly, and I nearly shivered. "No thanks, Ryan." I said. "I've got other arrangements."
Ryan stared for a moment, then blushed and scrubbed a hand through his sandy blonde hair. "Well, shit." He said. "I blew it huh? All this time, you were right there. Now that I'm seeing it, it's too late." He gave a rueful laugh.
And then I knew what he was talking about. I disentangled myself from Kurt, and hugged Ryan. "Ry, sweetie, you are NOT in love with me." I said.
"But-"
"No." I pressed a finger to his lips firmly. "You are not in love with me. You are scared of losing me, and that's making you feel a bit more strongly than usual. Hun, you're an empath. You should know the real thing when it hits you."
For a long moment he simply stared at me. His eyes flickered to Kurt, and widened a bit. Then, he nodded. "Your right. Of course your right, Morgan. You always are." He hugged me back, and the tension I'd been feeling before suddenly evaporate. Now, we were just three friends. "I'll see you at dinner." He said, and stepped into his room, shutting the door behind him.
Kurt raised an eyebrow at me. "Arrangements?" He asked slyly. I blushed, and tossed my suitcase at him. I was lucky that my parents had thought to pack some of my old clothes for me. Apparently, my apartment was still under police tape, and the FBI wasn't letting it go easily.
"Make yourself useful, and carry that." I said teasingly.
"I can carry more than that, Fräulein Flannigan," he grinned impishly at me, then transferred the suitcase from hand to tail. I had a moment to realize what he was up to when he charged at me, slinging me over his shoulder and bounding down the hallway in a surprisingly smooth lope. I must have screamed, or made some kind of noise, because I saw my sister's head poke out the door. She saw what was going on, and I saw her grin broadly as we dashed past her.
"Give him hell sis!" She crowed, and I was absolutely mortified. My little sister! Then, she vanished from view as we rounded a corner and ascended the stairs. He carried me that way all the way to another room a few doors down from his, and slid inside. Gently, he set me down on my feet, holding me steady as I got my bearings.
I looked around the room, and shivered. "Kurt," I said, "did they ever find out how that body got into my bathroom?" "Nein." He said. "We've increased security, and we've been trying to find the identity of the man, but what we have isn't matching anything in the FBI's missing persons reports."
I shivered again, and wrapped my arms around my self, rubbing them nervously. "Kurt, I don't want to stay in this room." It was too much like the other, and frankly, I don't think I was up to being alone.
"Well, we could find another room," he said, then offered uncertainly, "or, you could stay with your mother-"
I shook my head. "No, that would just be putting her in more danger. No Kurt, that won't work." I paused. "Could I stay with you?" I asked. "You seem capable of handling yourself, at the very least you'll be able to get away, and it would make me feel better, knowing you were there."
He stared at me seriously for a moment. "Morgan, are you sure that is a good idea? I mean, your mother, she-"
"I don't care." I said. "I'll sleep on the floor. I just don't want to be alone right now." Frankly, if my mom didn't pull it together soon, she and I were going to have to have a rather long, extended conversation. But for now, I just wanted to feel safe, and the only time I felt safe was when Kurt was with me.
Slowly, he nodded, and picked up my suitcase. "Ja, well, then I suppose you may stay with me. Though, for the record, I'll be the one sleeping on the floor." He grinned. "At least, we'll know I'm sleeping there. Who knows what everyone else will think?"
"I don't care about that either." I said. "Now, let's go back to your place." He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at me lasciviously. I laughed and let him lead me out the door and back to his room.
He cleared a spot on top of his cluttered dresser for my suitcase, and put it there for me. "Mein Haus ist Ihr Haus, Liebe," he said, "Bitte, make yourself at home."
I plopped down on the bed, and sighed. "Don't mind if I do."
He rummaged around in the dresser, and retrieved some clothing. "I really need to take a shower," he said, "Will you be okay on your own?"
"I'll be fine Kurt." I said. "I'll just take a nap or something. Sleep is such a wonderful thing."
He smiled, and vanished into the bathroom. I kicked off my shoes and stretched out on his bed-it was soft, and covered in blankets and pillows. Very non-masculine, but still very Kurt. It occurred to me he may not have much in the way of luxuries when he was younger, and that sometimes people liked to indulge themselves in certain ways. I slipped under the covers, and snuggled deep into the pillows. They smelled like him-a deep, musky, slightly sulfuric scent that thrilled through me. I sighed, and drifted off into dreamland.
When I awoke, I couldn't hear the water running anymore. The light from the room's single window had shifted, pooling in a golden square on the foot of the bed. I stretched, allowing myself to come to full awareness slowly. It was nice, because I hadn't been able to do that for a few days. I threw the covers off, and swung my legs to the floor, yawning slightly.
Kurt padded out of the bathroom, hair still dripping wet, with a smile on his face. There was a white towel around his shoulders, which he was using to mop his wet curls. He was wearing simple blue jeans, and I could see the waistband of his boxers over the waistline of his jeans. I was beginning to think he was using that look deliberately, for there were few things that could make me more weak in the knees than a partially clothed man that I'm attracted too. Even the body wasn't important. He could have been as soft and squishy as a sponge and I still would have wanted him. The fact remains though, that he wasn't, and I immediately had all sorts of naughty thoughts running through my head as soon as I clapped eyes on him.
Kurt stared at me for a moment, then through back his head and laughed. It was a rich sound, infectious, and I found myself giggling along with him even though I had no idea what was so funny. Finally, I had to ask. "What is so funny?" I asked, still giggling.
He shook his head. "Morgan, it has been a long, long time since a woman has looked at me like that, and I've been able to trust her motives for it." He said, still chuckling a bit.
"Like what?" I asked.
He searched for the right way to say it, then chortled "Like I'm on the menu."
It took a moment for what he said to sink in, and I felt a rush of heat to my cheeks. I was exceedingly grateful for the illusion that hid such things from him. Had I really been looking at him like that? Oh there was no doubt about it now, we knew that we were attracted to each other, that their might be something more, but the sexual tension was so thick in the room that moment that I don't think it could have been cut with a chain saw.
I didn't just want him. Oh no, in the span of heartbeats it took for me to rise to my feet, I needed him, the way I needed air to breath, or food, or water. Without him, I felt surely, surely I would die from it. I had to touch him, to roll the thickness of his hair between my fingers, feel the silken touch of his flesh against mine, feel our bodies press together, flesh melting to become one perfect person for one shining, bright moment.
I'd actually taken a few steps toward him when someone knocked on the door. I stumbled, eyes wide, heart pounding. Sweet Goddess, what was happening to me? Kurt was looking at me intently, his expression dark and hungry, and it made me shiver with delight.
I closed the distance between us and threw myself into his arms, pressing my lips to his, stealing the brief moment before he went to open the door. His arms crushed me to his chest, squeezed the breath out of me as I clung to him, desperate, wishing we had just a few moments for ourselves, for each other.
The knock on the door sounded again, and with great reluctance, he extracted himself from my grip. He held me firmly at arms length, and said in a breathy, shuddering voice "Don't move. Not an inch. I'll be right back."
I giggled, and trotted back to the bed, fully pleased that I know had confirmation that I affected him as much as he affected me. He paused before his door, rolling his shoulders and taking a deep breath as I brought my legs up on the bed and crossed them. Then, he opened the door. He used his body to block the doorway, effectively hiding me from view. "Mrs. Flannigan," he said, a bit too loudly. "What a pleasant surprise."
I swore internally. I loved my mom, I did, but I was not ready to confront her on how I felt about Kurt. Seeing me in his bedroom, with him half naked and my suitcase on his dresser would NOT be a good thing. I concentrated, throwing a light-bending illusion around myself, and my suitcase, effectively rending us invisible. Oh we were still there, it's just the particles of light in the air weren't hitting us anymore.
"Mr. Wagner," My mother said formally, "I'm very sorry for bothering you, but I simply had to speak with you. May I come in? It's rather urgent."
"Well, I-"Kurt glanced in the room, and nearly did a double take when he didn't see me. "Ah, yes. Please Mrs. Flannigan, come right in. Just let me grab a shirt, one moment." He went to his dresser and pulled out a black T- shirt, slipping it on as my mother came in. She closed the door behind her, hand pausing on the handle for a moment.
"Mr. Wagner, let me get right to the point." She said brusquely. It was almost a 180 from the nervous Nelly I'd helped off the plane.
"Please, call me Kurt." He said. "Would you like to sit down?"
"No, that won't be necessary. I don't plan on staying long." She said. Then, she smiled, and it was a smile full of malevolence. It was utterly, utterly evil, and chilled me down to the very bone. It was a look I had never expected to see on my mothers face. "We have unfinished business, you and I," she said, in a voice that was as unfamiliar to me as the arctic cold.
She pointed a finger at him, and made a downward slash. I saw his body jerk, and blood sprayed across the room. My vision narrowed to my mother's face, a line of splattered blood running diagonally across her face, her small pink tongue flickering out to taste it. Dimly, I heard a woman screaming, and realized with growing horror that it was me.