Love Enough for Time

Mein Liebe Kurt,

I have quite a bit of news to share, most of it relatively good, for a change. Mama and Michael have joined forces with Doctors Without Borders and expanded the relief agency's work into South Africa and Rwanda. I've also enclosed a picture of Michael, his wife, and my favorite (as well as only) niece and nephew. They've grown in sweetness as well as size. Lucy found a man content to live happily ever after at Kalahari Gemsbok. He's a fellow zoologist. They'll be getting married in a few months. And my brother Vincent is now Father Vincent. He'd just taken solemn vows with the Franciscan Order. So all goes well with that odd assemblage that's my family.

As for me, life continues to be lonely with you, Kätchen, and Piotr abroad and the X-Men gone. Work has been especially depressing, particularly after the last time I saw you. I will tell you as much as I can about it when I visit.

And yes, I will be visiting. I badly need a change of scenery. I had been considering a permanent career change, moving back to Keetmanshoop at least for the time being, and figuring out where my life should go from there. Instead, I have taken an assignment in Rome, and will need to stop in and see you on the way. Sadly, I will not be able to stay for Brian and Meggan's wedding, but I will have a gift for them.

I am scheduled to arrive at London Heathrow 3:15 Friday. I'll call with further information before I arrive. Tell everyone hallo for me, and that I look forward to seeing all of you very soon.

Dein' immer,

Kassi

P.S. Tell no one that I'm going to Rome. Don't even think too much about it, and destroy this letter once you've read it, bitte.

Nightcrawler anxiously looked for one last thing to do to get the lighthouse ready for its guest butthere was nothing left to do until Meggan, Brian, and Piotr returned from the airport. With Kassandra Altheim. A beautiful young Namibian-born psychologist who now only officially existed as a code name spoken only in awed whispers among the highest levels of government intelligence. Zeitgeist, ace criminal profiler and international covert operations specialist. And Kurt Wagner's favorite fencing partner.

The elemental Meggan breezed through the door, radiant with excitement, followed closely by the man once known as Captain Britain, Brian Braddock, and Piotr Rasputin, the mighty Colossus, helping with luggage. And then, Freude, endlich! Kassandra strode in, gorgeous in a terra cotta colored pants suit and burgundy duster. She threw down her satchel and briefcase and greeted the rest of the team.

"Douglock! Rahne! Kätchen!" Big hugs all around. And a small, winged reptile fluttered excitedly around Kassandra's head, eager for a little attention from this distinguished guest.

"Ach, unser mächtig Drache, Lockheed. Have you been taking good care of the team for me? Und Herr Wisdom…."

Pete Wisdom barely acknowledged her greeting with a strained nod. "Miss Altheim."

And then…

"I thought a professional woman in black would actually wear black."

"Kurt!" She raced into Nightcrawler's arms. For a while, all they did was just hold each other.

"Es ist lange her. Zu lange," she whispered, pressing a kiss into his blue cheek.

"It's been way too long," he concurred, running a hand through her wild dark curls and taking a moment to enjoy the soft scent that always seemed to emanate from her hair. The first time she'd visited him on this side of the Atlantic, he was in no condition to remember anything except wondering if she really did survive the disaster that nearly claimed his and Shadowcat's life, or if that was just some wishful hallucination reassuring him that she was okay and would do her part to help. The second time, they were both working with Black Air, but she worked busily under such deep cover that he never knew the nature or level of her involvement. He didn't get to see her except when Britannic requested her counseling to help deal with his jumbled memories. A lot had happened since then. Their good friend and colleague Dr. Moira MacTaggert had died. The team had to leave Muir Island. Sure, Kassandra would be leaving again after Mass on Sunday. But for now….

Kassi helped clean up in the kitchen after tea then sat down with reams of issues of Aquerello Italiano and a variety of other books. In Rome, she would be circulating among multilingual society, but she did not want to take that for granted. She wanted to have at least a conversational fluency in Italian before she arrived. She then rethought her plan of action, got up, and grabbed some leftovers. Growing up multilingual did give her an advantage. Nonetheless, learning a new language in mere seconds would take a lot of energy. And maybe some more coffee. She sat back down and opened the book.

Nightcrawler looked in, curious about the furious rustling of paper he heard in the kitchen, seeing Kassandra blurry and transparent, pages flipping furiously before her eyes. He smiled to himself. That's how Kassandra crammed for finals, too, once she got a grip on her mutant extratemporal abilities and stopped passing out all the time after utilizing them. Kassandra could work in a whole night or two of intensive study into a single instant, if she needed to. She then put her last book down, satisfied with her vocabulary and knowledge of verb conjugations, and stepped back into normal time.

"Buono notturno, mi amore," Kassandra yawned, as she headed to her room.

The next morning, Kassandra ran a few miles along the beach. She knew she was going to have to say some things she wouldn't like later that day. She could not predict the future, but she could deduce very accurately. Also, just as if she were her mythical Greek namesake, people had an often-tragic tendency to disbelieve when she knew trouble was on the horizon. Her own ability to shape the future was limited to the range of her own decisions. She could only try to persuade. She couldn't make other people's decisions. While her methods of persuasion could be powerful, blackmail, intimidation, bribery, and such were only effective against people with weaknesses she could exploit. And she would not dare use this particular person's notorious weakness for a pretty face. She had to do something anyway. And Nightcrawler, though he did not yet know, would be so entangled in the problems she foresaw that she couldn't even guess the most probable outcome. For his sake, she'd have to have a word with him. She did not look forward to that.

Still, she felt better than she had in a long time. Though Nightcrawler and the future that was taking shape for him confused and troubled her greatly, just being around him again, even if it was only for one more day, warmed her heart. And it was difficult to not to enjoy a greater clarity of mind and soul in this environment. The mist-covered crags and gravelly beach were nothing like her favorite places- from the vast Kalahari Desert, to the Skeleton Coast, famous for its stark, desolate, and dangerous beauty. But it was just as good. In all her work dealing with the world at its ugliest, she had almost forgotten how it felt to see God's Creation at its best and most sublime. She returned to the lighthouse with a clearer mind and lighter heart.

The rest of the day was busy. Kassandra spent the rest of the morning on the phone, being debriefed on her assignment, and apparently practicing her Italian at the same time. She was delighted to see that her extratemporal crash course in the Italian language paid off. She next went shopping with Kitty and Rahne, and bought an antique wall clock she knew Brian and Meggan would like. Then she met the whole team back at the lighthouse for lunch and a run-down of some of the operations and investigations she'd worked on, and how they affected them. She reminded Pete that she could dodge any heat daggers he might have for her. Oaths of secrecy did not apply to people who actually had a need to know, some of what she shared had been declassified, and as one agent once said, absolute secrecy corrupts absolutely, anyway. But she was gracious enough to not mention his substantial part in how her cover was blown and gun runners nearly rolled her up in Thailand. Finally, it was time for an appointment with an old friend in the Danger Room. But on the way, Pete Wisdom accosted her.

"Oi," he said, "Don't think I'm beginnin' t'like you or anything, but thanks for not mentioning me part in the Ronsaphan incident."

"Pete, I've long since forgiven you for that," said Kassandra. "You've more than proven yourself to the team. And you weren't the only one responsible for that bloodbath, anyway. But officially, I still think you were insufferably stupid getting me into that mess. And then leaving MI6 for an even worse outfit."

"Well, that's a bloody lot of comfort." Pete almost allowed himself to smile. "And officially, I still think you were violating international agreement, spying on Black Air like that. And as flippantly as if you were in some bad spy film."

"It's not my fault I was that good at it."

Pete wondered briefly about how all his relationships tended to begin with mutual dislike. Kassandra's eyes flashed. She picked up on his thought, like glimpsing an event in his timeline. She grinned. Annoying Pete Wisdom was almost as much fun as teasing Kurt. She continued."I've always hadexcellent taste inwho I work with, present company excepted. And don't flatter yourself."

"Well, I aint one ta keep ya from yer boyfriend, anyway."

Kassandra stopped. "You know, Herr Wisdom, I rather liked how you put this. Sod off."

"So, you were Celestine Ritter all along. And Alistair Stuart and the mighty Britannic himself were your agents!" Nightcrawler said. "No wonder Pete's been grumpier than usual around you. Unglaublich!"

"Nein, Kurt." Kassandra shook her head. "It's only reasonable that a bit of envy and mistrust should exist between rogue-ish spies such as him and me. Particularly since he and I have a rather unpleasant history that goes back even farther than Black Air. But I think we're getting over that. As for me, I'm not proud of the job I did. I had to make a lot of horrible choices, and I had spread myself too thin, concentrating on too much at once to be of enough help to anyone. There were more disasters than you know of that I tried- and failed miserably- to prevent."

"But you did help us all the same," he replied. "It seems mein' liebe Zeitgeist is a guardian angel in human form."

"Und Ich werde wieder sein, Kurt," replied Kassandra, "as you have been for me." She pulled on her glove. A lot had changed in the past years. Many tragedies, a few joys, and a great many new things learned. Kassandra graduated college early, with a double major in music as well as psychology, became a U.S. citizen, worked as a criminologist and profiler for the FBI, and joined the CIA Directorate of Operations as a human intelligence specialist. Her grandfather died, leaving her a portion of his diamond interests, so she was free to work as independently as she wanted. Most of the honorary family she had in the X-Men were gone. She still would not acknowledge their deaths. She also learned that her ability to see and navigate timelines did not extend to alternate realities. And though, thanks to Wolverine's stem cell donation, she would always remain physically youthful, her haunting dark eyes now reflected the weariness of someone who had seen more life and death than possible for anyone else in their early twenties.

But some things just needed to remain the same. She would never forget how the X-Men and Excalibur earned her fierce loyalty, though she could not officially join either team. How Nightcrawler had put his life on the line for her repeatedly. How he was her constant comfort after her father and grandfather died. How he didn't have to earn her love and friendship, and managed to deserve it so richly anyway. And that fencing to classical music would always be the sport of choice when she and Kurt were together. But standard sabre rules, this time. Kassandra felt that using her extratemporal abilities in fencing gave her an unfair advantage, Nightcrawler's ability to wield three or even four blades at once, and generally superior fencing expertise notwithstanding.

"So," she asked, "was Music habst du?"

"Hm." Nightcrawler rifled through the CD's that had collected there. "Wir haben 'Tannheuser.'"

Kassandra grimaced as she pulled on her mask. "Kurt, you know the only Wagner I like is blue and fuzzy and about to select something less depressing."

Nightcrawler smiled. "Point taken. How about Schubert Lieder? And not Erlkönig. I can't have you singing along one of your parodies."

"Ach, du verstehst ja gar keinen Spaß."

And so the piano played a whirling spinning-wheel theme, and a mournful soprano sang the words of a familiar Göthe poem. From Faust, it was, Kassandra recalled, as she saluted.

"So," said Kurt, as he attacked. "You said something about being my guardian angel again. Is this about your new assignment?"

"Ja." Kassandra counterattacked. "On the surface, it doesn't seem to directly involve you at all. But I'm the only one who knows any differently right now."

"What do you know?" Nightcrawler parried and riposted.

"Not much yet. That's why I'm going to the Vatican. To find out more."

"Die Vatikan?" Nightcrawler parried a strong counterattack. He had almost forgotten that while Kassandra was already an excellent fencer, the deceptively small and graceful girl also tended to fight with Wolverine's passion. And stamina.

"It won't be easy. I can't just flit in and out, grab secrets from people's pasts, and maybe roll up some baddies. You know how I look whenever anyone can see my extratemporal appearance."

"Like a woman transfigured," said Nightcrawler.

Kassandra scoffed as she again countered. "That's a nice way of putting it. There's a reason why the angels always have to tell people to not be afraid."

"Das ist wohl wahr."Nightcrawler parried and riposted. Kassandra tended to appear, if visible at all, like a bright, blurry, transparent wraith when she moved outside the regular flow of time. And anyone shocked by the sight of a fuzzy blue elf would be overwhelmed to see mutant beauties such as Ororo Munroe, Rahne Sinclair, or herself transform into terrors Storm, Wolfsbane, or Zeitgeist.

Kassandra parried and riposted. "At any rate, the last thing we need is a rumor of some mystic- or demoniac- flitting about the Vatican, of all places. Kurt, you mustn't tell anyone yet. I'm risking more than enough in telling you anything now, but you have a right to know. There are rumors of a covert anti-mutant movement forming within the Church. You've read the Pope's recent encyclical on mutant rights? Well, there have been threats made against him and a number of cardinals. I still can't make sense of how, but somehow, someone's going to get you mixed up in all of this.

"Kurt, I know this is harsh, but you must be very careful about the company you keep. And you'll have to make some very hard decisions, very soon."

"Kassi, Liebchen, how hard can it be, with my angel always looking out for me?" Nightcrawler smiled and closed the distance. They were already dueling toe-to-toe. Now it was knee-to-knee, and still closing.

Kassandra parried at the forte, and inwardly cursed free will and her inability to make people believe her. Then, against her better judgement, she riposted. "You have no idea. Shouldn't we halt this action?"

They were now corps-a-corps.

"Maybe," replied Nightcrawler, parrying and wrapping his free arm around her waist. With the end of his long tail, he flipped up their masks.

"You're not retreating," she said, placing a trembling hand on his chest as he leaned toward her.

"Neither are you."

A million thoughts flashed through Kassandra's mind at once. Ach, ja! She wanted this. But now? When she wasn't sure Kurt was over his last couple girlfriends? And so soon before she herself would leave? When she might not see him again for months, or years, or even ever? When he still hadn't even made up his mind about joining the priesthood? When there was no certainty of anything but eventual heartbreak? Und verdammt! She was just talking about people's lives on the line!

"Kurt, nicht jetzt," whispered Kassandra. And before their lips could meet, she disappeared, leaving her mask and sabre behind. "Gretchen am Spinnrad" had spun itself out, and the first tempestuous measures of "Rastlose Liebe" began to play.

Brian looked into the communications room, where Meggan was on duty. His blonde bride-elect had been looking particularly stunning since Zeitgeist had arrived. But the beauty she radiated was unusually fierce and tumultuous, like the view from the lighthouse on a windy day with a spectacular storm blowing in.

He kissed the top of her head and rubbed her shoulders. "What's happening, love?"

"Nothing, darling. All's quiet, for once."

"You know that's not what I was asking about," said Brian. The empathic, metamorphic Meggan had an unconscious tendency to alter her appearance according to the emotional climate. And in an instant, he could see reflected in her, as she felt, an intense flash of passion and fury and confusion that left almost as soon as it came through.

Meggan gasped. "That was Kassi. I'd better have a word with Kurt."

It wasn't at all difficult for Kurt to find Kassandra.He heard another piano rumblinga theme eerily reminiscent of a Dies Irae. Whenever Kassandra was happy, she'd just hum or spontaneously burst into song. If she was excited or nervous, she preferred drumming. But if something bothered her, it was always the piano. And if she was especially upset, it was always a really big piece that involved her practically throwing her small frame at the keyboard. "Ich bin ein gesampt' Idiot," Nightcrawler muttered, as he slid beside her on the piano bench. "Was ist das? Rachmaninoff?"

"Ja. Das erste Klavierkonzert."

Kurt watched and listened for a while, amazed at how even someone with almost twice as many fingers as he had could get such sounds out of a piano. Then he continued. "Meggan yelled at me for not taking you seriously. Then Brian got on my case for upsetting Meggan. Quite frankly, I deserved it. And if you want to go all Cyclops and lecture me about my irresponsibility, I'd deserve that, too. You were telling me something important, and I was behaving like some Cassanova."

Kassandra stopped playing. "Well, I'm sorry, too. My time here is too short to waste on histrionics. And if I could force you to believe things I don't quite understand myself, or if I even tried, what kind of person would that make me? But that's not all Meggan had to say, nicht wahr?" No use hiding feelings from her. While Kassandra could block telepathy by venturing even the tiniest bit out of temporal synchronization, in or out of time, she could not stop wearing her heart on her sleeve.

Nightcrawler shook his head. "Meggan told me everything. And Kätchen confirmed. You've been more than just a constant friend to me all these years. And now it all makes sense."

Zeitgeist sighed. "For what it's worth, everything they said was true. I thought you should know. I just didn't know how to tell you." She then looked into Kurt's golden eyes.

He then finally understood. Kassandra was not and could never be just another one of his many flirtations or infatuations, and he really could not treat her that way. The bond he had with her was not the attraction he'd feel for just any smart, kind, and beautiful woman who could appreciate a blue guy with funny ears and a tail. It was not the many other things he liked about her, her sense of humor, zest for life, how she laughed when she first saw his Errol Flynn disguise, and her stubborn efforts to remain a sterling character in a tarnished line of work. It was not based on their similarities, their common language and faith. It was not the mutual benevolence and gratitude between friends who'd put aside their own desires for each other's best interest. Nor even the visceral affection shared by comrades who'd lay down their lives for each other. Okay, so it was all of that, but more. Something dangerous when too lightly. "For what it's worth? I'm more blessed than Beethoven to have an immortal beloved like you."

Kassandra blushed. "Hold that thought, bitte. We can't afford to get too attached now. It's likely you will go for a long time without even hearing from me. Meanwhile, you have some hard decisions to make regarding your vocation, as I will about mine. You will be forced to question your friendships and even your faith. And even with Wolverine's healing factor, I won't be your immortal anything if I lose my head."

"Well, I wanted to give you something that might help." Kurt pressed a small silver pendant into her hand.

"Your St. Michael medal!" she gasped.

Nightcrawler nodded. "To remind you that I'll be praying daily for your safe return. And somehow I think the patron saint of soldiers and swordsmen will be of particular help to you."

"I can't even tell you what this means to me," said Zeitgeist, her eyes gleaming.

"Also, I had something I wanted you to know before you leave," said Nightcrawler, taking her shoulders into his hands and pulling her close. "Ich auch liebe dich."

Kassandra retracted her curse on free will. Obviously it was good for something. She allowed herself to be drawn into Kurt's embrace.

"So now that we have that out in the open, can you be content that we have to leave it at that for now?"

"Ja doch!" Kurt replied.

"Then now to get something else out in the open. I was just waiting for the right time to show you these. Hier!" She unlocked and opened this box that sat underneath the piano bench since she arrived, and took out two sword belts, and live sabres stronger than any ever made before and sharp as razors. One had "Epheser 6:10-18" engraved upon the flat. The other, a shorter blade which was presumably meant for Kassandra, said simply, "Hebräer 4:12."

"Donnerwetter," said Nightcrawler, awestruck. "Ist das-?"

"Ja. Logan decided that someone with a healing factor like his should also wield adamantium like him. So he had this made for me. And he thought it would be only fair to make sure new swords were made for both of us Elves. They're light, indestructible, always sharp, and not for regular fencing. I selected the verses. And if you're fast enough, you could destroy or deflect anything they can fire at you."

Nightcrawler looked incredulous.

"You can learn a lot from angry arms smugglers," Zeitgeist explained. "How about trying it out in combat simulation?"

"Unbedingtlich. After I've heard the rest of this piece. But one more question. When Meggan said you'd kill for me, did she mean it literally or figuratively?"

Kassandra glanced furtively away as she shook out her hands. "That's classified information."

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