Excerpt from a letter from Jean Grey-Summers to Scott Summers:

"I think it's now Kitty's turn to be more open and honest than she has heretofore been." Professor Xavier continued.

"Me?" she squeaked. "But I have been honest!"

"But you could be more open." suggested the Professor.

She turned bright pink again, and an array of the most fascinating thoughts crossed her mind, so intensely that I couldn't help but hear them. "I—uhh—Help?" She looked around.

"Perhaps I should begin for her." I said. I wasn't sure what she would come out with, otherwise. "From Kitty's letters to us, I can tell you that she is afraid that you have an uncontrollably violent temper. She doesn't believe you would ever hurt her, but she doesn't want to spend her married life in a state of constant tension, having to watch out for the next 'unfortunate incident.' Isn't that true, Kitty?"

"Yes." she admitted.

"I understand exactly what she means, because I turned down an offer of marriage made to me by a man who I found very attractive, for the same reason. Living with one's nerves continually on edge leads one to develop great big bleeding holes in one's stomach."

Erik looked at Kitty. "It's true." she told him. "You nearly strangled the doctor, and I don't know what you would have done to the Daroga. I'm not saying it's the only reason I wouldn't marry you, but it would be a large part of it."

"But there is nothing simpler," he declared. "If you ask it, I will never raise my hand or my voice to another living being—save in self-defense. I will be as gentle as a lamb, and you can do what you like with me—if you will only—care for me."

"I've known some pretty rambunctious lambs," she said. "I don't know how to put this, exactly…"

"Saying what you think and expressing how you feel will ultimately lead to fewer hurt feelings and fewer misunderstandings." urged the Professor.

"I guess—I appreciate what you're offering to do for my sake," she explained, carefully, "but I would much rather you didn't attack people because you don't want to—because in most cases it's wrong, and you know it's wrong—instead of not doing it just because you want to please me. I know that's a lot tougher—but that's what I want."

"Oh." His face took on the expression of a man with a very intricate problem to work out, or else a severe case of indigestion; the symptoms are much the same.

"You see, in telling you about this now," Professor Xavier expounded, "it may be possible for you to learn to control your impulses—rather than that you should wait until June to hear it." He turned to Kitty. "Waiting for him to think of it himself, or waiting for him to read your mind are terribly imprecise ways of communicating your concerns. You should try to voice them more openly in the future."

"I'll try, Professor." she promised.

"The problem is," Erik confessed. "That I don't know how. I don't know where to begin." He sounded very young and very lost as he said it. "May I ask—when you speak about June, when you mentioned Katherine's married life—Would you truly countenance a marriage between us?" He asked it with trepidation; this was yet another mask taken off, in its way.

"If Kitty loves you and wants to marry you, what could we do but give you our blessing?" Auroré answered.

"You may not be the boy next door, exactly, but you're certainly the man who lives a few blocks over, so to speak," I added. "Among the Evolved, you're not a despised outcast—although if you worked at it hard enough, you probably could become one. Instead, you're an attractive, healthy man in the prime of his life, you're very talented, you have an interesting profession and a steady income—which is rare among the Evolved. In other words, you're not merely an eligible bachelor, you're quite the catch. This does not exempt you from learning to control your temper!"

The Professor did not give him a moment to think, but continued our friendly assault on Erik's preconceived notions. "Are you familiar with your Plato? We all of us begin down in the darkest cavern, where, in chains of our own devising, we sit huddled up, enthralled by the shadows flickering on the wall, which, knowing nothing else, we take to be the sum and total of the world. It is only through effort, and no little pain, that we can gain our freedom, move up and out into truth, and stand at last in the light of day. You are simply beginning rather more literally than most of us."

"What we want, most of all," Sir Erich took over, "is Kitty's greatest good and greatest happiness—and yours as well. (And grandchildren,") he added, sotto voce. "You are one of us. You have always been one of us. I only regret that we had not found you sooner."

"In other words," I translated. "You're allowed and encouraged to ask us for help."

He was starting to look a bit pale again. I was afraid we were going to have a reprise of his earlier moment, when he looked into our hearts and knew us to be sincere, but he got his breathing and his emotions under control.

From there—to give him time to compose himself—we turned to the mundane topic of what we were going to do next. Sir Erich repeated his invitation to dinner, and pressed Erik to join us.

I think he would have refused, except that Kitty caught his eye and gave him an appealing look. I heard her whisper, "Please. It's important."

Eventually, we made our way back out to the street by way of the Rue Scribe exit from Erik's home. We went to Sir Erich's hotel, Kitty went home with her ballet mistress, and Erik simply went back inside. After all, we needed to dress.

I have now reached the end of my energy and the end of that impulse to write that made me sit down and pen this to you. I will tell you the rest in person.

All my love,

Your wife,

Jean.

A/N: No shout outs this time! (It's almost midnight and I'm dying) Why are you not getting yourselves over to www. Freewebs dot com slash phanphicawards slash (I know you can figure out how to get there) and VOTE FOR THIS PHIC! Under crossovers!

Thank you.

Gevaisa