Diclaimer: Sigh. X-Men still aren't mine, but Marvel's gonna have to send them all for major psychotherapy when I'm done. Making no money here.
Forget continuity. Left that behind a while back. Set sometime shortly after X-Men #109, but I've done a lot of rearranging of characters whereabouts to suit the story.
What was originally supposed to have been chapter 9 has now taken on a life of it's own and turned into chapter 9, 10, and 11. The next two chapters are mostly done and chapter 10 will be up just as soon as I get it proof read.
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Paper Flowers
Chapter 9 – Alone All Along
The blare of hard rock and the acrid smell of sweat and whiskey assailed her senses as she stepped into the noisy, crowded club.
Kitty suddenly found herself caught in the press of bodies near the entrance as she was bumped hard from behind, the force of the collision nearly unbalancing her. As she grabbed out blindly for a handhold to steady herself, she resisted the urge to just phase through the whole tangle of humanity, but just barely.
"Sorry, Kit." Rogue said practically into her ear as they were shoved almost on top of one another in the jostling crowd.
Kitty gave silent thanks for the sheer body stocking the other woman wore under her emerald green leather mini dress. She didn't particularly relish the prospect of being suddenly unconscious on the floor. Especially not this floor.
"It's ok. If I'm gonna get felt up, at least it's someone I know." she replied wryly, wondering how the hell they'd managed to talk her into this. It was supposed to have been a nice, quiet dinner out, maybe a little dancing. No one had mentioned a visit to purgatory.
"Ah hate to break it to ya, Sugah, but you ain't my type." Rogue deadpanned.
Kitty shrugged, or at least she tried to. "Yeah, well, I guess a girl can't have everything."
"Hey, I think I see a table." Bobby shouted out from right next to her, practically yelling his declaration into her ear, causing her to jerk back instinctively. "Let's go, before somebody else gets it."
She felt his hand settle lightly onto her bare lower back, - just above the low slung, chocolate brown, leather jeans she wore with her matching, stretch lace, crop top - as he steered her in the direction of the aforementioned table and Kitty heaved a deep sigh, resisting the urge to tell him, in no uncertain terms, to keep his hands to himself.
It wasn't his fault. Not really. Bobby Drake was a nice guy and she liked him a lot. As a friend. Nothing more. Now, if only she could convince him of that.
A large contributor to her surly mood, Kitty knew, was that she felt...exposed was really the only word she could come up with...in the outfit she'd let Betsy talk her into wearing. For some reason she just couldn't explain, she was even more uncomfortable dressed this way here, in this club, where there were plenty of women wearing much, much less, than she had been wearing her new costume in front of everyone in the Danger Room.
Heck, the other four women in her group were wearing less than she was, but she still couldn't seem to shake her awkward unease.
As she threaded her way through the throng of people toward what she assumed must be the table Bobby had spotted, Kitty tried to look over her shoulder to make sure everyone else was still with them. All she could really see of the rest of their party was a flash of Ororo's snow white mane and Peter's dark head as he towered over the rest of the group.
Their eyes met for the briefest of moments before he quickly looked away, leaving her feeling vaguely hurt, though she kept telling herself that his continued shunning of any contact with her was for the best.
It had been a rather rough week and Kitty had been hoping to avoid this type of noisy, crowded atmosphere, but everyone else had seemed up for it and she hadn't wanted to be the wet blanket in the group.
Now, they were here and she was really wishing she'd just called a cab to take her back to the mansion after dinner. With everything she had on her mind right now, she wasn't exactly a barrel of laughs anyway, and she doubted any of her friends would have missed her very much. Well, except for maybe Bobby.
Somehow, - Kitty still wasn't sure exactly how it had come about - she'd been unofficially paired up with him at dinner. After that, he'd seemed to consider her his date and she hadn't quite known how to convince him otherwise without hurting his feelings. It was beginning to be a very awkward situation and, at this point, Kitty was just praying he wasn't going to try to kiss her, or something equally awkward.
They eventually made it through the crowd to the large, empty booth Bobby had spotted, and Kitty slid in, Bobby, of course, sliding in right next to her. She stopped in the middle as Rogue and Kurt slid in from the opposite side of the horseshoe shaped seat and she ended up sandwiched between the image inducer disguised fuzzy elf and the human popsicle.
She and Kurt were still a little uncomfortable around one another, which seemed really strange, considering how close they normally were. But neither of them had quite been able to put the incident, which Kitty had privately dubbed "The Crotch Grabbing Episode", completely behind them.
Kitty still didn't remember it, but Kurt wasn't aware of that. She'd apologized to him repeatedly after he'd come to visit her when she left the medlab, and, of course, he'd graciously accepted her apology, telling her it was already forgotten, but things still weren't quite right between them. Yes, she'd told herself she wanted to distance herself from her friends, but this wasn't quite the way she'd had in mind.
Betsy and Neal ended up on one end of the booth, with Betsy next to Rogue and Neal on the end, while Tessa slid up next to Bobby and Bishop next to her. Peter and Ororo came after them, taking the other end of the booth, Ororo next to Bishop and Peter sliding in close to her to give Logan room on the outside. They were crammed in pretty tight, but they all fit.
As conversations and discussions began around her, Kitty let her gaze drift from face to face, but she wasn't really listening to what anyone was saying. She let it all roll over and through her as she thought about the coming days.
Tomorrow, Neal and Betsy would be gone, along with Bishop and Ororo. Two days after that, Rogue was leaving, and possibly Hank as well.
He and Cecelia had bowed out of tonight's outing, staying at the mansion to do some more work on the Legacy cure. They had, literally, been working day and night almost non-stop, but they hadn't had any luck figuring out a way around Stryfe's diabolical design for spreading the cure.
The two doctors claimed to still have high hopes, but Kitty wasn't convinced. She'd seen how dejected Hank had been the past several days, knowing it to be a sure sign that things weren't going well. A decision would have to be made soon and she had a very good idea of what it would be. It was the main reason she was still hanging around.
She hadn't told anyone that she wasn't going to Muir and she didn't intend to. When the time was right, she planned on just disappearing without a trace. She had very little left at the mansion, anyway, just a few pictures, her laptop, and some clothes. It would be a simple matter to gather it up and be gone before anyone was the wiser.
It would hurt them. It would hurt her. But, until she knew exactly what she was dealing with where the Soulsword was concerned, she couldn't risk another episode like the one with Betsy, or something even worse.
All week, she'd been writing down and studying everything she could remember about her dreams, or visions, or whatever they were, in the hopes that something would eventually strike a cord, make all the seemingly unrelated pieces make sense, but nothing had. She was no closer to unraveling the puzzle of the Soulsword than she had been before.
The most infuriating thing about it all was that some of it seemed so familiar sometimes. She would think she almost had it, had almost put it all together and made the connection, but then it would slip away again, leaving her frustrated and angry. Kitty knew she needed to talk with someone familiar with the occult and mystical objects, but she couldn't think of anyone she would trust to help her with this.
At least the more horrible dreams seemed to have stopped, and, as far as she knew, there hadn't been any new episodes of her blacking out or doing extremely strange or violent things under the swords influence. Indeed, all her dreams had been almost exactly the same for the last several nights. The images of the sword, the firebird, and the book, along with the Bloodstone Amulet, and the same words over and over again.
Obviously, these images were supposed to tell her something, but she'd be damned if she knew what and it was driving her crazy. And, amidst it all, she still wasn't sure in the least that she could even trust what the sword was showing her or telling her.
"Hey, Kitty...wanna dance?"
Bobby's hopeful voice brought her out of her thoughts and she realized with a start that they were alone at the table. Everyone else, even Logan, seemed to be out on the dance floor.
"I guess..." she began tentatively, then shrugged. Why not? "Sure."
She let him take her hand and lead her out to the floor, completely unaware of the multitude of admiring glances aimed her way as she passed by.
There was a fast song playing as they took the floor and Kitty was surprised to find that Bobby was actually a better than average dancer. When she commented on it, he just grinned in that boyish way he had and shrugged.
"My mom taught me. So she'd have somebody to dance with at weddings, since my dad would rather commit suicide with a rusty spoon than dance in public."
The comment had Kitty laughing for the first time in days and she began to think that maybe the night might at least be bearable after all. Bobby was funny, and smarter than everyone seemed to give him credit for. At least he was good company.
"Well, she did a good job." Kitty assured him, receiving a wide smile as a reward.
"You're really good, too." Bobby observed, admiring the way she moved. "Does it come naturally or did you study?"
"A little of both." Kitty replied as she twirled gracefully. "I've always loved to dance, and I took classes with Stevie Hunter for two years."
Bobby's eyebrows shot up. He'd heard of the famous ballerina. Who hadn't? "Why'd you stop? Seems like you might've had a professional career."
"Oh, yeah. I could've changed my code name to Tango." she replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Can't be an X-Man and travel with a dance company." Suddenly, Kitty sobered, all traces of humor gone. "Besides, I got messed up pretty bad during the Morlock Massacre."
The smile left Bobby's face and he winced. "Oh, geez. Sorry. I forgot about that. Must've been a pretty rough time."
"It was, but I got over it. Eventually." It wasn't really something Kitty wanted to get into, so she tried to think of a way to change the subject. When she spotted Wolverine dancing with a curvy blonde, she decided it was the perfect opportunity. "Looks like it didn't take Logan long to find a date." She jerked her head in the direction of the feral mutant and his dance partner, seeing Bobby's eyes follow the motion.
"Nope. Not long at all. He's got good taste, too." Bobby noted appreciatively. Then he looked back at Kitty and grinned. "But I still think I ended up with the best date."
Wincing inwardly, Kitty decided it might be time to bite the bullet before Bobby really did get his feelings hurt. Better that she set it straight now before it went any further.
As the current song ended, a slower song took it's place and Bobby automatically pulled her loosely into his arms for a slow dance.
Taking a deep breath, Kitty looked up at him and gathered up her courage. "Bobby, I think we need to talk" She waited until she knew she had his attention before continuing. "I like you a lot. You're a really nice guy, but..."
Bobby put his index finger against her lips effectively cutting her off as he gave her a friendly smile. "...but you don't like me that way. Don't worry. I know that. Besides," he nodded toward Peter, who was dancing with Ororo a few feet away. "I get the idea you're already spoken for."
"No," she shook her head slowly. "I don't think so. We haven't been anything even remotely resembling a couple in nearly a decade and, right now, we're barely on speaking terms."
And it was true. Though Logan, Kurt, and Ororo had all told her Peter asked after her frequently, he hadn't come to see her at all since she'd gotten out of the medlab and, most of the time, he seemed to be making a conscious effort to be wherever she wasn't. She'd barely seen him the last week, except for mealtimes when he diligently avoided sitting anywhere near her.
She knew it was for the best, but Kitty hadn't thought she'd miss him simply being around as much as she had.
"That may be, but he hasn't taken his eyes off you all night. Not that I blame him," Bobby wiggled his eyebrows at her comically as she swatted his arm, but then sobered immediately. "Seriously, Kit, I like you. You're interesting and fun...and absolutely gorgeous, but I know you're not interested in me as anything but a friend. I just thought it'd be fun to sort of claim you for tonight."
Kitty seemed to consider his words for a moment, then laughed. "I'm ok with that. Mostly. A friendly date I can deal with. Not that, under different circumstances, I wouldn't be attracted to you, but I have the worst track record on earth when it comes to relationships. And besides," Her gaze automatically sought out Peter and their eyes again met across the dance floor before he quickly looked away. "I think I was taken a long time ago and, even though we'll never be able to really be together, I can't seem to let that go."
This time it was Bobby who nodded, sighing wistfully. "I can definitely relate to that. I feel the same way about Lorna. I've accepted that she loves someone else and she'll never return my feelings, but I'll always love her. There's just no one else that compares for me." He shrugged helplessly. "I guess that's just how it is with first love."
"Sucks, doesn't it?"
"Absolutely."
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"Why don't you go and dance with her?"
Ororo's softly accented words, tinged with a sigh of mild frustration, startled him back into the present and Peter realized he'd been staring at Kitty as she and Bobby danced. Blushing slightly, he turned his attention back to his partner, finding himself being scrutinized intently by those sometimes disconcerting, ice blue catseyes.
"I do not imagine she has any desire to dance with me. She seems to be enjoying herself with Bobby." There was a tinge of bitterness, and not a little jealousy, in his statement and Ororo narrowed her gaze, giving him a hard look.
" I know you do not truly believe there is anything between Kitty and Robert. That idea is patently ridiculous....and you cannot avoid her forever, Little Brother."
Peter's scowl vanished, his lips curving slightly at the knowing look and familiar form of address. Almost from the first, he'd been her little brother. He'd only been fifteen and Storm had taken it upon herself to make sure he didn't do permanent damage to himself out of sheer, youthful foolishness. Those first years, she'd had a full time job looking after him.
Old habits died hard, he supposed.
"I believe I have done an admirable job of it to this point." he replied ruefully.
Ororo exhaled heavily, and he could hear the affectionate exasperation in the sound. "Have you even spoken to her at all since Hank released her?"
"No. Katya made it very clear the last time we spoke that she did not desire friendship, nor anything else, from me. I felt it best to leave her alone."
Not so very long ago, he'd been terrified she was going to die, that the last words they would ever speak to one another would be ones of anger. But, she had recovered and, relieved as he had been, he couldn't bring himself to see her, try to talk with her. Her previous rejection still hurt, badly.
Peter Rasputin was a patient, persistent man, but he wasn't a foolish one. No matter that it was breaking his heart, he would not continue to force his attentions where they were not wanted.
"I doubt, very seriously, Peter, that she actually meant that. You know she has not been herself lately. Are you going to let her leave for the far side of the earth without even speaking to her again?"
As they moved slowly across the floor to the soft, haunting refrain of the song currently playing, Ororo laid her head against Peter's shoulder, wracking her brain for some way to get through to these two people who meant so much to her, yet were so infernally stubborn that she sometimes wanted to strangle the both of them.
It was not like Kitty to be so withdrawn and moody as she had been, and neither was it like Peter to just give up on her so completely. They had both weathered much worse than anything that had occurred lately and managed to remain at least friends. Ororo honestly didn't understand why things were so suddenly falling apart.
"No, I suppose not." he admitted reluctantly. "But I do not know that tonight would be the best time to talk with her."
"You are simply procrastinating." she pointed out, noticing how his gaze kept drifting across the room to rest on the girl he was so pointedly avoiding, his eyes following her movements as if he were mesmerized. And it also didn't escape her notice that Kitty, every so often, would glance his way as well.
Why on earth couldn't the two of them see what was so plain to everyone else? There was a bond between them that was not going to be broken, and it was more than a bond of friendship or even family.
"Perhaps." Peter agreed, his attention not really on their conversation any longer, but on the slim, graceful woman with the cascade of dark chestnut curls dancing in another man's arms.
Right now, he wanted nothing more than to stride across the floor, remove her from Bobby's embrace and take her into his own. And keep her there. She seemed to be enjoying Drake's company far too much for his liking.
As he watched, she threw her head back, laughing for the first time he knew of in weeks, and it was all Peter could do to tamp down the green eyed monster that appeared out of nowhere, urging him to go over there and lay claim to what was his. But he knew the reaction he would receive for attempting such a thing, and it would not be pleasant.
Nor would it be the right thing for him to do. Kitty was a woman, not a trophy to be fought over. He'd learned that lesson the hard way. Whatever the outcome, the choice was hers to make. But, deep down inside, where it wasn't so easy to lie to himself, Peter admitted that the choice had been made long ago, and not by her, but by him. And he'd made the wrong one.
Forcing himself to tear his gaze away from the other couple, Peter looked back to the woman, the friend, in his arms at the moment, thankful that she seemed to have let the matter drop for now. Ororo meant well, but he didn't believe she realized just exactly how much Kitty had changed, either recently or over the last few years. Or how much he had changed, as well.
Storm still saw them as they were years ago, the young, teenage girl with an adolescent crush on the slightly older, shy, Russian farm boy she considered something of a knight in shining armor. And he had wanted to fill that role for her, but he had been too young himself to deal with the very real, very adult, very serious feelings they were developing for each other.
And, to a nineteen year old boy, the thought of having to wait another three or four years, for the girl he wanted now to be old enough to start a real relationship, had seemed like an eternity. So, he'd just given up on her, on them, tossed what they had away.
But they weren't children anymore and something told him that if they didn't work this out between them soon, they never would.
Once again, his attention was drawn to her, across the darkened dance floor, the revolving lights playing on her hair, bringing out the gold and auburn highlights from the deep, rich brown, her movements fluid, graceful as she allowed her partner to guide her across the floor.
Perhaps tonight was the time to make one last effort, one final attempt to discover if there was anything left between them, to see if there was any hope at all that those feelings, those dreams, they'd once had could be recaptured.
If not, well, then it was time to let the Dream end, at least for him. Once and for all.
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To Kitty's surprise, once they got past the initial, awkward issue of romantic expectations and relaxed, she found that she and Bobby actually had a great deal in common.
They were both only children, had both been thirteen when they joined the X-Men, making them the youngest members of their respective teams, they both had a head for mathematics and science, and they were both sick and tired of the mutant super-hero life.
She envied him his normal accounting business, his normal life, that he could return to when the crisis of the moment was over, and she wondered what might have happened if they'd started out on the same team, if he'd been with the second group of X-Men, instead of the first.
But, it hadn't happened that way, and things were as they were. She was still in love with Peter, he was still in love with Lorna Dane, and it certainly didn't look, based on recent events, like her life would ever be anything resembling normal, whether she stayed with the X-Men or not.
She and Bobby shared several more dances before their entire group began swapping partners, which served to improve her mood slightly.
By unspoken agreement, everyone seemed to have decided to put aside the X-Men, missions, being mutants, and everything else that went along with their everyday life and just have a good time tonight. Especially since it would, undoubtedly, be the last time they were all together for quite a while, if ever.
Kitty ended up dancing with Logan next, which she always enjoyed.
What he lacked in skill on the dance floor, he made up for in sheer animal grace and, as always, he and Kitty had a good time together.
"Pun'kin', I gotta tell ya, that's some outfit ya got on tonight." He remarked, taking in her attire with a smirk. Her bare midriff was sporting, of all things, a belly button ring with some kind of little dangly thing on it and there were wide, gold hoops hanging from her earlobes. She'd even applied heavier makeup than usual for the occasion. "And I'm pretty sure I ain't seen this before."
Reaching out, he flicked the little bit of jewelry adorning her midriff lightly and Kitty blushed furiously, hiding her face in his shoulder in embarrassment.
"Hey! Stop that." She slapped his hand playfully as a teasing grin spread over his face. "I've had it for a while," she admitted. "But it doesn't exactly go with the costume. This is really the first chance I've had to wear it."
"Did ya happen to catch 'Ro's reaction when she got a look at it?"
"No," She replied slowly, not sure she wanted to know. "Why?"
"Let's just say it caught her by surprise. I'm amazed she hasn't said somethin' to ya by now."
"Dear God, Logan. I'm twenty three years old. I think I can have a belly button ring if I want. Hell, I might even get a tattoo."
At that statement, Logan burst out in hearty laughter. "You be sure an' tell her that, Darlin'. It'll probably give her a stroke."
"At least it's not in my nose."
"Kit, that's just disgustin'."
They shared several dances before they changed again and, this time, she ended up with Kurt. It was a little uncomfortable at first, but, finally, the German mutant stopped in the middle of the dance floor and took her by the hand.
"Ach, this is ridiculous. Katzchen, I apologize for acting like an immature oaf. You are one of my dearest friends and I refuse to feel awkward around you any longer."
Breathing a sigh of relief, Kitty let him spin her back into his arms and she hugged him tightly for a moment. "Thank God. I was beginning to think we were going to be dancing around each other forever." She grinned up at him. Even after all this time, she was still thrown off by the too normal looking, nondescript face provided by the image inducer instead of her blue furred, yellow eyed, fuzzy elf. "No pun intended."
"Now that we have that settled, shall we show the rest of these peasants how it's done?" he asked with a rakish grin.
Laughing, Kitty let him twirl her around the floor, thrilled that they seemed to be getting back on an even keel. Kurt was a very good dancer and they enjoyed showing off a bit through the next couple of songs. As the last one ended, they received a smattering of applause for their efforts.
Kitty managed to last through a few more songs, even dancing with Neal and Bishop, before pleading temporary exhaustion and making a run for the table.
It hadn't escaped her notice, during the course of the evening, that Peter had kept as far away from her as he possibly could and still remain in the same building, and she felt some of her good humor abruptly deflate. She couldn't help but be a little hurt that he hadn't even so much as asked her to dance while everybody else was switching around and mingling. After all, she'd even danced with Neal, for God's sake.
As she moved through the crowd on the dance floor, Bobby grabbed her arm as she went by.
"Hey, where're you going?"
"I want to sit down and rest for a few minutes." Kitty replied tiredly, rubbing at her left temple, which had recently developed a low, dull, throbbing ache. "I'm beat."
"Awww. And here I was hoping to get my partner back. I've missed you. Besides, Rogue's been stepping on my feet."
A few feet away, the aforementioned Southern woman, who was currently dancing with Bishop, glared at him.
"Ah did not step on your feet. It was your imagination." she declared, but Bobby just rolled his eyes, turning to Kitty and giving her his best pleading look.
"Don't leave me out here all alone too long, ok? I think they're gonna make me dance with Logan next." As he affected a somewhat horrified look, all Kitty could manage was a weak smile and Bobby's attitude suddenly turned serious, his teasing grin replace by concern as he looked her over carefully. "You ok, Kit?"
"You know, lately, I think somebody asks me that question at least five or six times a day." she mused, patting him on the arm as she turned back toward their table. "Just a slight headache. I'll be fine."
"You sure? If you want, I'll take you home." When she automatically started to protest, he added, "It's not a problem. I'd be glad to."
"No. Give me a few minutes to rest and recover and I'll be good as new." she promised, stretching up to give him a friendly peck on the cheek.
As Kitty walked off, neither she nor Bobby noticed Peter standing against one wall, shoulders slumped, as he watched the two of them, what little hope he'd had left slowly crumbling to so much dust.
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She'd barely sat down when Betsy arrived to drag her back out onto the floor with the rest of the girls to teach them all some new dance she'd learned. Under protest, she let the English woman pull her away, trying to ignore what she knew was the beginnings of a raging migraine.
She immediately regretted giving in.
By the time the song was half way over, Kitty was blushing furiously and praying to sink into the floor. If there hadn't been so many people around to see, it might have been an actual option for her. She had no idea where Betsy had learned this so-called dance, but she was almost positive there were several states where it would be illegal.
The five women, Kitty still wasn't sure how Betsy had talked Tessa into joining in, were doing a pretty good imitation of a very suggestive bump and grind to "Lady Marmalade" and she was hoping that they weren't going to go into an actual striptease before it was over. She also wondered exactly how much the other four women might have had to drink prior to this impromptu floor show.
Though she could shake and shimmy with the best of them, it wasn't something she normally did in public, or anywhere else, and her mind was working frantically, trying to come up with an inconspicuous way to exit the dance floor as soon as possible.
They had attracted quite a crowd of admirers, which only seemed to egg Betsy and Ororo on. Before long, they were taking turns improvising dance moves for the others to follow and things just deteriorated into pure smut from there. After a while, Kitty began to feel like she was in a Beyonce video.
It got even worse when Kurt and Neal worked up the nerve to jump in. Kurt was dancing with Ororo and Neal, of course, was dancing with Betsy, doing things on the dance floor that had her mouth dropping open. She knew it was all in fun, but she was so embarrassed she could barely stand to watch as her female friends shimmied and slithered all over her male friends.
When Bobby caught her eye, raising his eyebrows in silent question, Kitty just shook her head vigorously and shoved him toward Rogue while she fled the scene. No matter how close they were as friends, there was no way she was dancing with anyone like that. At least, not in front of the rest of the world. She'd die of mortification and would never be able to look any of them in the face again.
Kitty was beginning to believe she had way too many inhibitions to be in the X-Men, judging by what she was seeing now.
It was like watching a train wreck, horrible, yet so intriguing that you couldn't look away. She was pretty sure some of those images would be burned into her brain for all time.
She noticed, with some satisfaction, that Logan seemed to feel the same way as Kitty watched him leave the others in favor of a dark corner on the other side of the room.
Heading in the general direction of their table, she briefly considered joining him to hide in the shadows, her eyes focused on the floor instead of where she was going, and was suddenly brought up short as she bumped into what, at first, she thought was a wall. Instead, it turned out to be Peter.
Kitty looked up, prepared to apologize to whoever she'd crashed into when she found herself staring up into a very familiar set of deep blue eyes.
All the air seemed to rush out of her lungs, and she had to take a deep breath before she could speak again.
"Sorry. I wasn't paying attention."
When he didn't reply, just kept watching her with an odd, pensive expression, Kitty started to turn away, going toward their table, as she'd originally intended. Before she could take more than a couple of steps, his hand wrapped loosely around her wrist, gently halting her progress.
She turned back toward him, her eyes questioning as he tugged her closer. "Did you want something, Peter?" Kitty tried not to snap it out with as much impatience as she felt, but didn't quite succeed in keeping the sharp edge completely out of her voice.
"How are you, Katya?" His voice was soft, carrying an odd note that she couldn't readily identify.
"I'm ok." She looked him full in the face, the hurt and anger that had been building up the entire week, as he went about pretending she didn't exist, finally getting the better of her. "But, then, if you really gave a damn, you could have asked me that question any time in the last week."
Again, she turned to go, but he wouldn't release his hold on her wrist, even as she tried to tug it free of his grip.
"You are the one who said you did not want my friendship, or my company. I was only respecting your wishes." It was said just as softly as before, without heat, indeed without any outward emotion at all and that just irritated her further.
She hated it when he retreated behind that cold, Russian stoicism, shutting everyone and everything out. The first time Kitty had ever been on the receiving end of that attitude was just before he'd broken things off with her. And it had been the same attitude she got a short time later, as he sat and calmly told her he didn't love her anymore.
It brought back enough unresolved pain and hurt-filled memories to set her blood on instant boil.
Glaring up at him, she planted her feet, unconsciously preparing for a fight. "That's right. I did. And, since you've done such a wonderful job of 'respecting my wishes' all week, why ruin your perfect record. Now, are you going to let me go, or do I have to phase myself free and kick your ass right here in front of everyone? 'Cause, frankly, I'm in just about the right mood for a fight."
"I have no intention of fighting with you." He could see the anger flaring brightly in her wide, expressive eyes and knew he was walking dangerously close to the edge with her right now. She had a volatile temper at the best of times and, if he pushed her too much, she would make a scene, regardless of where they were.
"Then let me go." she hissed through clenched teeth. But, to her surprise, instead of releasing her, he pulled her even closer, turning loose of her wrist only to put his arms around her.
"I'm sorry." he whispered. "I did not mean to upset you. I only wanted to talk to you for a moment." He held her gaze, letting her see all the hurt in his own eyes, holding nothing back from her this time.
Kitty tried to hold onto her anger, tried not to care that she was so close to him, tried to ignore the wounded look in his eyes, the slight note of pleading that had crept into his voice, but she couldn't do it. Where he was concerned, every defense she'd ever developed was useless. He could walk right through them as if they weren't there. She had nothing left to fight him with.
Laying her forehead against his chest, she closed her eyes, her head aching, her hands clenching into fists at her side as she fought the urge to hold on to him, all her fire and anger gone in less than an instant, leaving her empty, and drained, and vulnerable.
"Please..." she moaned weakly. "don't do this to me. Not now."
For what may have been a few seconds, or half the night, Kitty really didn't know or care, they stood there, his arms draped loosely around her as she slowly relaxed against him.
"I hate it when you do that." she finally said, so quietly he almost didn't hear her over the music and conversation going on around them.
"Do what?" he asked, a little puzzled, but, knowing by her tone, by the way her body had gone from ramrod stiff to pliant against him, that the storm had passed. At least for now.
"Close yourself off, put up those walls and just...shut down. I've never known how to deal with you when you're like that."
"Just as I do not know how to deal with you when you become so angry. You explode, like a fireball." he returned, pulling back just enough to study her face, sighing heavily. "What are we going to do, Kitty?"
Looking up into his eyes, a million thoughts ran through her head in a second, but she rejected them all.
In her mind, there was one image that dominated all the others, that of the Soulsword, and, with it, the damage, the destruction, it had wrought in the past, and would wreak in the future, if she gave it the chance. And she knew there could only be one answer, she just couldn't bring herself to say it. Not yet.
So she closed her eyes and shook her head instead, unable to look at his face anymore. "I don't know, Peter. I just don't know."
Around them, the lights dimmed further and the tempo of the music changed, going from a hard rock beat to a softer, slower melody driven by piano and the soft strains of an electric guitar, accompanied by the soft t tap of drums, but Kitty barely registered any of it. All her energy was going into maintaining some level of composure.
Within her, a battle was raging and the part of her that fought for her own self-preservation was loosing. Opening herself to him would destroy her, just as surely as the Soulsword would, but her resistance had been utterly destroyed the moment his fingers first connected with her skin.
"Will you dance with me, Katya?" The soft bass rumble of his voice carried to her over the surrounding, constant background noise and she could only nod, incapable of speech, knowing if she tried to talk, everything, all her thoughts, all her feelings, all her hopes and fears, would just come rushing out and she wouldn't be able to stop it.
Taking her left hand in his right, he laced his fingers tightly with hers, pulling her close as his other hand skimmed her bare waist, coming to rest on the small of her back, the light caress sending shivers along her spine, his touch warm and gentle on her skin. And, just that quickly, she was his, as she always had been, would always be.
They were standing to one side of the dance floor, away from most of the other couples on the floor, and they didn't bother joining the main group, preferring to stay where they were as they swayed in time to the music.
As she gave in to her heart, laid her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and lost herself in what, she knew, would be their last dance together, Kitty finally registered, in some small part of her addled, confused brain, the song that was playing. And knew that the Fates were, indeed, evil and cruel Gods who delighted in the suffering of their charges here on earth.
Sleep has left me alone,
To carry the weight of unraveling where we went wrong.
It's all I can do to hang on,
To keep me from falling into old familiar shoes.
It was so absurdly appropriate that she would have laughed, if she hadn't known it would come out sounding more than a little hysterical, if wouldn't result in her completely and totally breaking down beyond all hope of recovery. There was a surreal moment when she felt like a character in in one of those sappy, Hollywood tear jerkers that she hated so much, living out her life to a pre-recorded soundtrack.
How stupid could I be?
A simpleton could see,
That you're no good for me,
But you're the only one I see.
She wondered if Peter had noticed, but decided it didn't matter. The whole universe was trying to tell her what a fool she was, that she was wasting her life wanting him, the one man in all the world that she couldn't have. But still she clung to him, unwilling to give up these final moments, all that was left of the only life she'd ever really wanted. It might be stupid, but it was all she had.
Love has made me a fool,
Set me on fire and watched as I floundered,
Unable to speak,
Except to cry out and wait for your answer.
You leave me here, burning,
In this desert without you.
When this dance was over, so would they be, once and for all. Forever and ever. Amen. No turning back, no reconciliation. No hope. Just the rest of her life, stretching before her, a long, black, ribbon of deserted road stretching through a barren land.
She would leave tonight. She knew it now. Had, in reality, known it all along, but just hadn't been willing to admit it to herself. The time was far past for them both to move on. No matter how much it hurt, he wasn't hers, hadn't ever really been hers, whatever she told herself. It had only been the simple, idiotic, daydreams of a little girl. The time had come for the little girl to finally grow up.
Everything changes,
Everything falls apart,
I can't stand to feel myself loosing control,
In the deep of my weakness, I know.
That you're no good for me.
But you're the only one I see.
Deep inside, her heart broke and bled, and she wanted only to stay just as they were, for this song, this dance, to never end. Because, when it did, she would finally lay to rest the one, final dream she'd clung to for the last ten years. The dream she'd held since the first time she'd laid eyes on Piotr Nikolievitch Rasputin, ten years ago in her parents living room, when a thirteen year old girl had given her heart away and never really gotten it back.
Charles Xavier had his grand Dream and Kitty had desperately held onto her much simpler one, even as she fought and bled for his. And dreams died hard.
Out of sheer necessity, she leaned into him, letting him hold her up, knowing that, if she didn't, she'd collapse in a heap onto the floor. His arm tightened around her, molding her body against his, fitting them together perfectly and she found herself wishing that she could have had one night with him. Just one night.
But it was too late, now. It would only complicate things more, make it that much harder for her walk away, to close that door firmly behind her and, so, she forced the thought from her mind. For the first time in her life, Kitty wished that, just once, with this man, she'd followed her heart and her hormones, instead of her head.
As the music slowly died around them, they stopped moving, but stayed as they were, unwilling to let go. Kitty gently disentangled her hand hand from his, wrapping her arms around him and holding on tightly as he did the same.
When Peter finally tilted her chin up, dark, cobalt blue meeting rich, golden brown, she saw the knowledge in his eyes, just as she knew he must see it in hers. Bracing herself, fighting back the flood of tears burning behind her eyes, she waited.
Looking down into her upturned face, Peter felt as if he was being ripped in two and the pain was almost more than he could bear.
He loved her more than he would ever be able to put into words, but he had waited too long. Things had gone too far and there was no way to go back, to put things right. She couldn't be his again. They would never be lovers and they couldn't be friends. It was over, ended for good, here in this crowded, noisy place. Now they had to put it to rest.
"There is no way to make things right between us again...is there?"
It wasn't really a question and they both knew it, but she shook her head anyway, the first tear slipping from the corner of her eye to slide slowly down her cheek.
"No....I'm sorry."
Considering that she was shattering into a million pieces inside, Kitty felt that her voice came out amazingly steady, with only the slightest tremor, when what she really wanted to do was scream until she couldn't scream any more.
"So am I."
Taking her face in his large hands, he leaned down to brush a kiss across her lips, softly at first, then more firmly, his lips warm and soft against her own, sending an electric jolt through her body that she knew he had to feel as well. God, she'd completely forgotten how kissing him had always made her feel, breathless, pliant, boneless. No other man had ever made her feel this way and she knew no other ever would.
For both of them, it ended much too soon. Reluctantly, he pulled away, placing a kiss on her forehead, murmuring to her softly in Russian, words that had her dropping her face into her hands as the tears came faster, her breath hitching raggedly as she tried to regain control.
When she looked up again, all she saw was the door closing behind him.
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A/N: The song, of which I used parts, is Sarah McLachlan's Stupid. I am not really a fan of using songs in my writing, but as I was in the middle of writing the scene it's in, the video came on VH1 and, since it seemed to fit so perfectly, I took it as a sign and stuck it in there. If it annoys anyone, sorry.
To My Reviewers: You guys are the BEST!
Evanescence kicks ass: Thanks so much! Glad you liked the last chapter, but frankly, I am much happier with this one and the two to follow. They will all be heavily Peter/Kitty. I tried to fit it all into one chapter, but it was so huge, I'm having to break it down. Look for major sappy, syrupy, at least slightly, if not majorly, smutty, scene in chapter 11.
T.A. Pixiestix: Hi! Yes, the ff.net breakdown nearly gave me one, too. Thanks so much for your review! I'm glad it's still making sense, even if you haven't been immersed in the comics for the last 30 years or so. I know there are a lot of Evo and Movie fans out there, and, being a fan of those too, I'm trying to make it understandable for everyone. So let me know if I zone out and miss something. And don't even get me started on how Marvel killed off Peter with that @#$#?! Legacy virus. It went so beyond lame. They sent all the other characters outside to play basketball while he basically killed himself. That will not happen here. Chapter 10, which I hope to get up tomorrow, is my own personal view on what should have happened in that issue.
So, tune in next time as we deal with the cure for Legacy and things get very, very dramatic and even more angsty. Writers live for reviews.