*Sigh*  Standard disclaimer.  I don't own the X-Men, I don't own Kitty and Bobby, I'm not making any money off of this. 

Thanks go out to Beaubier for beta-reading, to everyone who threatened my life if I stopped writing Bobby and Kitty's adventures, and, most especially, to Luba Kmetyk, without whose prompting I probably would have never written their adventures in the first place.  Happy Birthday, Luba!

Ghosts from the Past

Prologue

Kitty glanced over at the table nervously, taking in the candles, the bottle of wine, the matching stoneware plates that represented their best dishes.  Was it too much?  Not enough?  What would Bobby think?

She took a deep breath and let it out, letting the tension in her neck and shoulders drain out with it.  Bobby wouldn't complain, regardless what she did – or didn't do – to make their anniversary special, she reminded herself.  She wondered if he'd even remembered it; he'd been out the door before she'd even gotten out of the shower that morning, having yelled something in about a breakfast meeting with a client. 

Two years.  Damn, she couldn't believe it had already been two years since Bobby Drake's irresistible grin had first swept her off her feet – or knocked her off them, she corrected herself as she smiled nostalgically.  It seemed as if they were always knocking each other over, back then.

But she really wasn't complaining.  They'd been the happiest two years of her life, after all, though at the beginning she'd had her doubts.  It had been an…adjustment, to say the least, and for a while she'd wondered if they would make it.  Not as a couple – despite the reservations expressed by their friends, she'd never really doubted that - but as normal people.

Of course, she reflected, the power fluctuations Bobby'd been experiencing back then hadn't help from that standpoint.  She'd put her own business plans on hold, temporarily, to keep his business going when things had gotten so bad it really wasn't safe, either for him or for anyone else, for him to leave the range of the power suppressor she'd designed.  Even his ridiculous "power belt" hadn't compensated sufficiently for the extremes of temperature he'd been generating, and Hank had insisted that a nullification collar, which Bobby had practically begged for before things had finally turned around, would have made the situation far worse, in the long run.  And she'd promised him at the time, with heavy reservations, that they would not move back to the mansion, no matter what.  Their lives, their futures, had moved away from that path.

She'd learned a lot, then, she knew, far more than she would have had her original plans panned out.  She'd handled the "in person" aspects of running an accounting business while still going to school – gone to meetings, given presentations, even dug through mildewy old records – while Bobby had crunched numbers through the computer and conference-called remotely from home.  She'd learned all about prejudice, back then, and the many forms it came in; she was young, female, Jewish, and a mutant, and for a time it seemed as if everyone held all of those things against her, equally.  She'd hated it nearly as much as she'd hated standing in front of a roomful of people, presenting information she didn't really understand, but as her confidence grew so did her competence.  In retrospect, she knew she'd have had a hard time getting started with her own consulting business if she hadn't acquired those skills first.  Many of Bobby's customers from that time were hers now, as well.  And gradually, oh, so gradually, Bobby had regained control, and things had gone back to normal.

She grinned as she remembered the first date they'd had once he finally felt comfortable leaving the apartment, and the delight and relief on Bobby's face at simply being outside once again.  She hadn't realized, until that moment, just how much being closed up in the apartment day after day for four months had bothered him.  He'd never said a word, neither then nor now, but she knew. 

But that was a year and a half ago, and things gotten progressively better since.  Her own business had taken off once Bobby had recovered from his 'surgery', and despite her initial reservations, since her graduation in May she'd had all she could do to keep up with the demand.  She should have spent this afternoon getting her information together on the new security system she'd designed for Nortax, she remembered guiltily.  She forced herself to push the thought aside, even as she glanced longingly at her laptop on the table across the room. Some things never changed; just as she had back when she and Bobby were investigating the Neo, she still felt inordinately guilty about taking time off when she had work to do.

Glancing at the clock that hung on the wall across the room, she realized that Bobby was due home within the next fifteen minutes.  Not that that meant much, she acknowledged.  Bobby was nearly as likely as she was herself to get home late, though she conceded that he was also far more likely than she to arrive early.  It seemed as if something always came up at the last moment…

The doorbell rang, pulling her out of her thoughts, and her face screwed itself up with confusion.  Who in the world would be ringing the bell at this time of day?  Kurt was usually their only unexpected visitor, and he'd popped in early that morning.  Lockheed appeared, apparently from nowhere, but most likely from the window in the office which received the most light at this time of day, and flew at the door, hissing.  She looked at him with surprise, even as she cautiously made her way across the room.  It wasn't like Lockheed to come out for the doorbell, and his reaction…her body, honed initially by years as an X-Man and more recently by frequent visits to the dojo, tensed up as her hand grasped the doorknob and turned it.

The sight outside was the last one she would have expected, and she felt her face grow pale.  Outside the door, wearing a wrinkled white shirt, black pants, and a black tie, none of which looked as if they'd been washed or ironed in the recent past, stood someone she'd never expected to see again.

"Pete?" she questioned hesitantly, wondering if it were truly him, or some sort of facsimile.  But the sarcastic smile that formed on his face answered her question, and Lockheed's attempt to push the door shut confirmed it.

"Hullo Pryde, long time, no see, hey?  Hope I ain't interruptin' nothin'.  I need yer help.  Think you could get the flying rat to move out of the way so I can come in?"

**********************************************

Bobby entered the florist's shop at a run, nearly bowling over an elderly lady in a loud, flower print dress, who turned to glare at him indignantly.  He smiled sheepishly and shrugged, then glanced up at the clock on the wall.

Damn, that was a relief – it was earlier than he'd thought.  The battery in his watch had died earlier that week, and he hadn't gotten around to replacing it yet.  He caught his breath, and turned to the case to pick out some flowers.  While he knew red roses were normally appropriate, he also knew Kitty wasn't all that fond of red roses…maybe yellow?

Two years, he realized as he picked out a mixed bouquet instead in the bright colors he knew she preferred.  He still couldn't believe it'd been two years since Kitty nearly knocked him off the front porch of the mansion with the door and he'd fallen for – no, more like into - those huge brown eyes.  Chuckling to himself as he made his way to the counter, he considered that it was even less believable that she had stuck with him for two years.  It wasn't as if things had been smooth sailing…

They'd done ok, though, he reminded himself.  There was no way he could have made it through his "cold" period by himself; neither sane nor with his business intact.  He had Kitty to thank for it all, and he knew it.  He just wondered if she knew just how much he appreciated it.

Probably not, he admitted.  Kitty never seemed to realize just how amazing she was, and still laughed at him when he tried to tell her.  Just how she managed to accomplish everything amazed him – the workload with her clients was astronomical, and she was now considering grad school. 

He hoped she'd decide to go, he thought as he paid for the flowers and left the shop, noting as he passed that the woman he'd bumped into was still glaring at him.  They'd manage the bills somehow, even if she had to stop working for the duration.  While she was a terrific computer tech, he knew that wasn't what she'd rather be doing, at least not long-term.  He'd heard the excitement in her voice as she'd described thee reactor project she'd worked on during her internship last year, and the proposals Dr. Benes had made for the next stage.  That was where she belonged, not fixing people's file and print servers and implementing firewalls.

But it was her decision, he reminded himself.  And grinned, putting his hand into the pocket of his jacket and feeling the small, square box within.  Hopefully tonight he'd get up the nerve to ask her something else she'd need to make a decision on.  He only hoped she'd say yes.

He really wasn't sure if she would.

He made his way over to the little red convertible they'd bought second hand last year when his Pinto had finally breathed its last, then opened the door and hopped in, setting the flowers down on the passenger's seat.  Maybe he should just hold off, he reasoned.  It wasn't as if they weren't living together already; why take the chance of screwing everything up? 

No reason – except he loved her.  And that, he told himself firmly, was reason enough.

Besides, he wasn't sure if he could wait any longer; since the idea had taken hold of him the month before he'd thought of virtually nothing else.  He'd been so nervous this morning he'd taken off while she was in the shower, uncertain that he'd be able to last until dinner otherwise.  He hadn't even, he realized suddenly, wished her Happy Anniversary.  And laughed.  She'd probably figure he'd forgotten.

He pulled into his parking spot at their apartment, jumped out of the car, and made it half-way to the building before remembering that he'd left the flowers on the seat.  After he retrieved them, he retraced his steps back to the building and opened the door and began the trek up to the third floor.  Maybe next year they'd have the money to start looking for a house.  While he really couldn't complain about their apartment, or their neighbors (with the exception of the one couple who'd filed a complaint about all the "strange looking characters" who visited them), at twenty-six he was getting tired of renting.  Maybe next year…

He paused at the door to the apartment to pull his hand absently through his hair, and had put his hand on the doorknob before he realized he heard voices inside.  Damn, talk about timing.  If Kurt and Amanda were over again he was going to scream – he loved them dearly, but he had other plans for tonight, once that wouldn't be enhanced by the presence of the elf and the sorceress…

He swung the door open, and saw Kitty sitting on the couch – and that she'd gotten dressed up for the occasion in a strappy green dress that barely reached mid-thigh.  And grinned, thinking of what they'd undoubtedly be doing after dinner.  But the grin slipped as he realized that the man sitting with her certainly bore no resemblance to the fuzzy elf…it took him a moment to realize just who it was, since he knew him only from pictures and mission logs.  And tried, really hard, not to jump to any conclusions, despite the dress, and the candle lit table, and the wine…

And managed to choke out, instead, "Pete Wisdom, I presume?"