"Guten Morgen, Kassi. Es ist halb elf, und du brauchst Frühstück, nicht wahr?" said Kurt as he swept into the infirmary balancing a dangerously loaded tray on one tridactyl hand. "I forgot what you like best, and having seen how you can eat last night, I just thought I'd bring you some of everything."
A slightly rumpled, sleepy-looking Kassandra perked up and smiled. "Danke, Kurt. Aber…." She looked quizzically at the tray set before her, then up at Kurt, with an eyebrow raised. A sliced orange. She could handle that. Scrambled eggs. Okay, maybe. Waffles smothered American-style in butter and maple syrup.
"Was?"
Kassandra inclined her head slightly to the right. Her arm, was still coated shoulder to knuckles in fiberglass and in traction. "I'm not left handed."
Kurt smiled as he poured out a cup of coffee. "Well, this is not how I originally had in mind serving you breakfast in bed-"
"Kurt!"
He ducked to avoid being hit by a flying orange segment. "…aber das ist gut so, Liebchen!"
"I don't think I'll be removing that cast, come to think of it," said Beast, as he stared nonplussed at the orange wedge that landed at his feet. "First, warping in here and frightening the living digestive byproducts out of Annie, then wanton destruction of power inhibitors, and now food fighting in the infirmary. In fact, I just may need to immobilize your other arm."
"Sorry, Hank," said Kassandra, as she took a cautious sip of her coffee.
"So how is her arm?" asked Kurt.
"Ja. Meaning no disrespect, but it would feel a lot better if it weren't for that verdammtes itching."
"Well," said Beast, "based on these latest X-Rays, your troubles there will soon be relieved. When you finish actually eating your breakfast, we'll see about replacing that cast with some splints, and I've taken the liberty of setting up an appointment for you with an orthopedist in McLean tomorrow."
"Is it healing quickly?"
"Oh, yes, no problems there," Beast chuckled. "But you won't be playing the organ again by Sunday or any day if it doesn't heal correctly."
And so the rest of the morning was spent. Kurt helped Kassandra finish her breakfast. Dr. McCoy took her arm out of traction and sawed off her cast. And finally Kassandra emerged from the infirmary, cleaned up, dressed, and ready to leave, with her arm slung and swathed in splints and bandages, and her coat draped over her shoulders. Annie had apparently even made a valiant, and rather futile, attempt at getting Kassandra's hair under control. Nightcrawler offered to fly Kassi back at least as far as Washington DC. Kassandra was quite grateful. While she was normally a good pilot, particularly with her extratemporal reflexes, she never let on how nervous a passenger she could be. Kurt was an excellent pilot and even better company. The only way she could be happier was if she was in any shape to copilot.
Logan followed them to the hangar. "You know I was never any good at following doctor's orders, Little Elf, but don't follow my lead. I second everything Hank says. Stay out of fights, be careful when you time trip, and see that doctor friend of his. And Elf, take care of her. If anything bad happens-"
"Logan," said Kassandra, with just the slightest hint of warning in her voice. Nothing would go wrong. But she didn't want Wolverine entertaining the notion of indulging his violent overprotectiveness again by popping his claws at Nightcrawler. "I'm only going to Virginia, and you'll see me Sunday. Relax."
"Right, kid. Take care." He nearly enveloped her in a big, rib cracking hug, then, remembering her pinioned arm, reconsidered and patted her shoulder. Carefully.
So Nightcrawler and Zeitgeist boarded the X-Jet and strapped in. Or rather, Kurt helped Kassandra strap in before he took his seat. And once they were airborne, Kurt said, "So, I guess this means you'll miss Alex and Lorna's wedding, nicht wahr?"
"Ja," Kassandra replied. She paused. She wasn't sure she should tell him exactly how she felt about missing out on that, the long awaited union of Havok and Polaris. But this was related to another matter she needed to discuss. "Kurt, how would you feel if you found out I was not entirely forthcoming with you- about your past, and about your near future, for instance. Or about mine?"
Kurt stiffened. "Have you been lying?" He had, after all, entrusted her with the task of helping him recover and make sense of his memories.
"Nein, ich hab nicht Dich belogen. I wouldn't dare. Just keeping some secrets."
"Well, you told me there are some things that I'm better off not remembering. I must admit I'm still not sure I even want to remember all that was erased. And I think you said enough when you said you'd seen things most people try to block from their memories. I'm not sure it's deliberate dishonesty. Just a problem posed by your unique relationship to time, and the nature of your occupation."
Kassandra remained silent while Kurt brought the plane in for landing, then spoke. "I hope you remember this, Kurt. Because details of all the terrible things I've done will become public knowledge soon. And you will find out some terrible things about your own history."
"Like what?"
"If I told you now, it would completely ruin this moment. You'd either not believe me, or you'd be traumatized. Just brace yourself, and keep to your prayers." Kassandra unbuckled her safety belt as Kurt walked over to help her up.
"Werde ich, mein' Zeitgeist," said Kurt. "And I wouldn't want you to forget this." He pulled a small silver pendant out and as carefully as he could with his tridactyl hands, and thankful that Kassandra had her hair somehow pulled up in a large pony tail, fastened it around Kassandra's neck. His St. Michael medal.
Kassandra could not resist the opportunity. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him tenderly before she turned to deboard the plane. "Danke schön, Kurt. Now be sure to behave yourself at Alex's bachelor party."
"Liebchen, when have you known me to not behave?"
"Heute, beim Frühstück," said Kassandra, returning Kurt's mischievous grin.
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"Guten Tag, Herr Direktor!"
"Zeitgeist. Have a seat."
"Danke." Kassandra sat, then set her briefcase on her lap, opened it, and pulled out a couple of papers. And upset a whole lot more all over the floor.
"Here, allow me," said the director, as he helped clean up. "So what's all this?"
"Every last little thing I could gather on the Church of Humanity, including a few items regarding the raid at the Cathedral, and, oh yes, my letter of resignation."
The director was nearly floored. "Are you sure you want to do this? Since your name and your involvement in Operation Conclave were leaked, the press has run everything they could today, including those ridiculous rumors that you were behind the raid on the Cathedral. If you resign now, it will look as if you were indeed responsible."
"And if I don't, the CIA will appear responsible, at the very least for covering for me." Kassandra closed her briefcase and rose. "I suggest you look all this over thoroughly, and begin investigation immediately. Call me if you have any questions."
"Well," said the director, as he glanced through the papers, most of which was a report she had yet to submit. "I think I already have a question. What exactly were you doing with this assignment?"
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"Lucy?" Kassandra had just checked into the Washington Suites, under an alias, of course, and phoned the only person in her family she knew would be awake at that hour. Lucy was a zoologist at Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park. The brown hyenas there had been acting irregularly lately, and so, at the moment, Lucy needed to be up all hours of the night studying their behavior.
"Kassi!" Her sister practically shouted, as loudly as she dared, anyway, over the line. "Wie gehts? Mama told me about your arm. Is it any better?"
"Ja. Mein Arm ist in Ordnung. Aber es geht mir nicht so gut, Lucy. Has Mama or anyone else heard anything on the news about me, lately."
"Nothing you haven't written, and nothing about you. Warum?" Lucy was always a bit curious as to why her little sister would study psychology and hone her brilliant musical skills, only to become a reporter.
"Gut. I need you to tell Mama, Michael, and Vincent before they hear it from anyone or anywhere else. It's already in the news here, and will soon be all over Namibia. You remember the 'story' I wrote on the blood diamond operation? You didn't think I took that job myself just because we're familiar with the business, nicht wahr? And why do you think it had such an effect internationally?"
"Kassi?" said Lucy, warily. She was not sure she liked how this conversation was going.
"Journalism was just a cover, Lucy. I was with the CIA all this time. And you'll soon find out I'm under investigation for some horrible things. I've lied, stolen, leaked information, and killed people. All for the greater good, of course, and you know how much better that makes me feel," Kassandra said bitterly.
"What are you going to do?" Killed people? Killed people! Lucy knew Kassandra had a bit of a temper, and, though small, was quite a scrapper, but….
"I'm going to face justice, Lucy. Unfortunately, that will mean I won't be able to come home, at least for a very, very long time. Lucy, tell the others, bitte. I can't bear for them to hear it from anyone else."
"Werde ich, Kassi," said Lucy, "und wir werden für dich beten."
"Danke, Lucy. I hate to cut this short, but I have an important call coming in. Tchüß.
"Hallo," said Kassandra.
"Zeitgeist, this is special prosecutor Emily Fitzsimmons. I'd like to get your testimony tomorrow. Could I fax you the subpoena now?"
So much for government bureaucracy moving slowly. "Sure. And what time do you need me there?" said Kassandra.
"9 am."
Verdammt. Kassandra would have to reschedule her doctor's appointment. And call her attorney right away.
