Back in Salem Center, Alex's bachelor party rapidly degenerated into a disaster. The guys hired a shape-shifting stripper. And they thought it would be funny to request she look like Annie, the nurse that, at the very least, earned Alex's fond admiration since the bombing that first landed him in her care. Naturally, the joke was lost on Alex.
Then Logan opened his inebriated mouth, and suggested the stripper perform a nun act for Kurt. Kurt soon joined the guest of dubious honor in bemusement. After a few pointed words, he soon left to examine his own disturbed conscience. Would it have made a difference if Alex knew all along that the stripper really wasn't Annie? Apparently not. Should it have?
Kurt thought about Schwester Maria Boniface, who oversaw much of his first religious instruction, never caring, perhaps owing in part to her blindness, about what this boy from the circus looked like. And then about… Kassandra! And, verdammt, why should it even matter whose appearance this woman could adopt? Why should anyone try to defend her honor only when she looks like someone important to them? Why shouldn't she be treated with the same respect, just as she was? Kurt decided that it shouldn't make a difference, not to an honorable man, anyway.
He had already apologized to Alex. Perhaps he should later explain that he now better understood how he felt. But now he just needed to hear someone else's voice.
Kassandra herself had quite a roller coaster of a day. After the somewhat grueling testimony, she was lucky to get in a late afternoon appointment with the orthopedist Dr. McCoy recommended. And though her arm was still a bit sore, much to her joy, the doctor said it could come out of its sling and splints. After that, she grabbed a bite to eat, discussed more of her case with her attorney over the phone, then, anxious for a bit of exercise, walked back to her hotel. Being officially unemployed was proving to be just as hard work as the job she'd just resigned.
Once she settled in, she brewed a pot of chamomile tea, found a nice jazz station, and quickly scanned the ads for a new apartment. It was all too likely she'd need to stay in McLean for a while. And finding housing would not be very easy, especially now that Kassandra was again a private citizen. She would wish that the Fair Housing Act would be amended to ban genetic discrimination, but at this point, it didn't look like it would matter. It looked like more landlords and managers were more flagrantly disregarding that law altogether. In addition to seeing "No mutants allowed" in the ads, she began to see "No mutant libs" and even "No Catholics." Ah well. Their loss. Kassandra would almost prefer living in a Morlock tunnel to paying rent to those bigots. She circled what few options seemed best, thankful that at least the hotel couldn't be bothered to ask if she was mutant or human, Catholic or Christian, et cetera. She might have answered the same way she usually answered when people would ask if she was Black or White, which was usually along of the lines of, "Yes. Should it matter?"
She then drew a nice piping hot bubble bath. Just as she was about to set foot in the tub, her phone rang. It was from the Institute.
"Hallo?"
"Kassandra? Ist es für dich grade günstig?"
As good a time as any, Kassandra figured. She always had time for this person, especially when he sounded so dejected. And, yes, she decided she'd very much like to hear his voice as she wound down. "Ja, Kurt. Wie gehts?"
"Nicht so gut. Es tut mir leid, Kassandra. I didn't behave myself at the bachelor party. We played a rather cruel joke on Alex, and I think you know the rest."
Kassandra sighed. Of course she knew. Still, she would not say she told him so.
"Und jetzt bist Du enttäuscht von mir oder?"
Kassandra paused for a brief moment. There were only two other things Kurt had done which disappointed her, both of which were, in fact, considerably worse than this. Even then she chose not to write him off. After all, she had to weigh in all the good he had done, and that was considerable to say the least. And he stood by her when she'd had her own moments of stupidity, as well, like that long ago crush she had on Pyro. "Nein, Kurt," she replied. "Nicht von dir. And after all, you were the first besides Alex to understand that it wasn't funny, nicht wahr?"
"I hope you haven't lost respect for the rest of the guys, Kassandra."
Kassi sighed. "I can't forget this happened. It's in the chronological record. I'll see it if I look at that point in your timelines. Aber Kopf hoch, Kurt. The same goes for all the good stuff, too. Though someone should remind Logan that I once considered joining the Dominicans before he cracks any more nun jokes."
"You did? I thought I remembered something about that. And feeling quite relieved that you didn't go through with it."
"Was?" said Kassandra, teasingly. "You have something against that order?"
Kurt laughed. "Nein. I just somehow suspect that you're not suited for that vocation."
"Irgendwie?" laughed Kassandra. Hmm. However did he get that idea?
"And, seriously, Kassi, I rather wish I were in McLean right now."
"Und ich auch, Kurt. I haven't exactly had a great day myself. But we both will have big days tomorrow. Jack and I have to gather more evidence that's been subpoenaed for the investigation, I have to find some more permanent housing, and I'll have to catch up on my music practice if I'll be any good on Sunday. And as for you, well, Alex will need all the moral support he can get the next couple days. And someone's going to have to tell Logan that my arm's all better."
"Beßer? And how are you celebrating?"
"Ich bin so müde, Kurt. After the day I've had, the only way I'm celebrating is with a pot of tea, a soak in the tub, and as soon as I hang up the phone, I'm drying off and going to bed."
"Wirklich?"
"…!"
Of course Kassandra realized the potential effect of what she just said. Kurt could practically hear her blushing over the phone. But the longing Kurt felt returned with additional and, under the circumstances, surprisingly innocent poignancy. He actually wasn't imagining what she looked like in her current state. Well, okay, but only for a moment. But all he really needed and wanted was so much simpler and more profound, that he quickly banished that thought. "Well, I look forward to your return, Liebchen. And to helping you put both of your arms to proper use again."
"Ich auch," she admitted, smiling. "And if all goes smoothly, I might be back in town Saturday evening, rather than Sunday morning. Für jetzt, gute nacht. Und, Kurt?"
"Ja?" Kurt thought he could hear Billie Holiday singing "Blue Moon" in the background as he awaited what Kassandra had to say.
"Ich liebe dich noch immer."
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It was a miracle Kassandra managed to get anything whatsoever done on Friday. First, the phone wouldn't stop ringing. Kassandra only barely managed with screening the calls.
Logan called first, bless his heart. "Hey, kid. Elf just told me your arm's all better. How's the rest of ya?"
Then Mama, on the rare occasion when she couldn't speak a straight sentence in one language, crying in a frantic mix of Afrikaans, German, and her native Zulu, "Kassi, I just spent half a day away from my patients being debriefed by Henry about how you shattered your arm fighting with Logan, and now Lucy tells me you are in more trouble, and that you've killed people! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE NOW? Did I give you life for you to just throw it away? So help me, if I find you've been abusing your God-given talents like those Evil Mutants…."
Lorna, aka Polaris, aka The Green-haired Bridezilla. "And Juggernaut will move the piano out onto the lawn so you can play…. What do you mean? Of course you can. After what you've done, the least you can do… you have to be back in court? … Let them hold you in contempt, Kassandra. Special session or not… Yes I'm sure it's a landmark case for mutant rights, yada yada, like I EVEN CARE right now. The other musician backed out, and I NEED MUSIC FOR MY WEDDING! … NO, I WON'T USE A RECORDING!"
Someone who just made a bad business decision. "$1,200 a month rent, $1,000 security deposit, and $700 more for pets or mutants."
The orthopedist. Kassandra's brothers. Mama again. Dr. McCoy. Mother of Bridezilla. Unknown Caller and Out of Area went unanswered. Somehow she managed to get through to her banks, her phone companies, the FBI, all the people from whom she needed additional records to bring to court. And an apartment manager and a couple of proprietors returned her calls and said nothing in particular about race, politics, or religion.
Next she had to go through all of this additional paperwork with her attorney and send it to Fitzsimmons. Finally there was the search for the apartment. Unlike Kurt, as Kassandra didn't look particularly unusual except when using her powers, she did not receive quite as much overt discrimination- on the basis of her mutation, anyway. And so she usually could get by on other people's assumptions that she was not a mutant. But she knew ethnic and religious discrimination all too well, and what she experienced really was no different. In some ways, it just compounded things.
The first she visited was a complex of several buildings. It appeared quite nice and clean, with a lot of amenities. And the manager seemed very proud of the fact that his complex housed mutants as well as non-mutants. "Now if you have any problem having mutants as neighbors, there are a whole lot of other places you can stay.
"Over here in these buildings we have our apartments for mutants and their families."
Kassandra looked down at the brochure's map of the complex. There was not just one nice large swimming pool, but two. Not one fully equipped gym. Not one Laundromat. In fact, there was at least two of everything here, it seemed. "So you still have mutants living separately?" Kassandra asked.
"Well yeah. Keeps the rest of us safe, y'know, like in the event of a sentinel attack."
"Uh-huh," said Kassandra, clearly unimpressed by the flimsy excuse.
"And, well," the manager said with a nervous laugh, "you know how those pyrokinetic kids can be, playing with fire and all that. Nice to have them as neighbors, but would you really want them in the same building?"
"I don't suppose you house the smokers separately here, too," said Kassandra dryly, "or ban residents from visiting their neighbors on the other side of the complex, right, you know, in case of a sentinel attack?"
The next complex was by no means like the first. Not exactly a slum, but it was apparent that the owners couldn't afford to be bothered about the genetics or religious beliefs of those whose rent checks and maintenance fees kept the place from becoming one. That aside, the landlady seemed friendly enough. But there was still something not quite right about this.
Kassandra requested a moment to think things over.
"Take all the time you need," she said. She then went over to the community bulletin board and started removing flyers, inwardly lamenting the fact that one of the tenants saw fit to promote right-to-life events. She wondered if that lady would feel the same if she ever was stuck pregnant with, say, a deformed or mutant baby.
"Note to self..," said the prospective tenant.
The landlady about jumped out of her skin. Where she had seen a well-educated, soft-spoken African girl, there was now this… horror, putting down unsigned papers.
"…call Mama and thank her for letting this mutant baby be born." And with that, another lease and a security deposit disappeared.
Finally on to the last one. It wasn't an apartment building or complex at all, but a family home that had a separate apartment in the basement. The owners, a kindly retired couple, decided it was for let after they'd fallen upon hard times. And when a car crash left their grandchildren orphaned and in their care, things were getting desperate. The apartment wasn't much. A studio, really. Ororo might not be able to stand it in there, but it was comfortable enough for Kassandra. The couple also had a piano in their living room that she was welcome to come up and play. And then came the kicker.
"I hope," said Mr. Slawson, "that you like the kids, and that you won't take issue with the fact that one has special needs."
"Why should I have any problem with that?"
"Well," said Mrs. Slawson, carefully, "It's just that our previous tenant left within a week after we got the kids, and we've been having such trouble finding another on account of Ben's… condition."
"Can I start moving in today?"
