"… und die Kinder sind so süß, Kurt. Naomi's a starry-eyed little daydreamer who I know will love Kätchen's stories. And she didn't want me to stop practicing piano because she had too much fun, playing ballerina. Of course, practicing was interesting with Baby Janie insisting on trying to sing along. Oh, and Janie thinks my hair tastes good."
"Wirklich?" said Kurt. "And all this time I only thought it smelled nice. Maybe I'm missing something. But how about the other child- the one with the 'condition'?"
"Ben's the oldest, and it's mostly because of him that I'm there. He has a fairly healthy fascination with superheroes, so I went ahead and told him I'm a mutant."
"I take it he reacted well to that."
"Ja doch! He began insisting that I just had to stay. And the grandparents then were interested, not fearful. They reacted no differently than when I told them I played piano. So I gave them a small display of my ability. I told them to go to the kitchen, where they found the dishes washed, dried, and put away."
"So, ist Ben ein mutant? That would explain why they've had trouble finding a tenant, nicht wahr?"
"Nein, Kurt. Er hat nur Tourette's. But I guess it's logical in some twisted way that people who hate mutants would come to regard a kid who only happens to have tics the same way."
"Das arme Kind. But at least it's great to know you're staying with good people. How's the legal battle?"
"So weit, so gut. Fitzsimmons is having trouble getting a hold of a couple of witnesses- Raven Darkhölme und ein Nils Steiger. And she neither can nor will prove any connection to the others who've used my code name."
"By the way, I wondered how you got that code name. I seem to recall it was actually a nickname first. And a rather appropriate one."
"It was a nickname, Liebster. One you gave me. Anyway, it actually helped that others used the same code name. Kept people confused about my real identity, activities, and whereabouts. And now it looks very likely that I will avoid all the totally bogus charges. That will strengthen my credibility when I go to trial on the real ones, and after today's testimony, my success there appears more likely. Also, it's bought me a little more time before that happens."
Kurt worried about just what Kassandra considered success, but he was happy to hear about this little additional time. "What do you hope to do with this extra time, Liebling?"
"Prepare to face the indictments when they come in, keep trying to smooth things over with my family, discuss with Charles how to deal with Alex and Lorna-"
"I am glad you weren't here for the wedding, Kassandra."
"And I'm glad Alex had the sense to call it off, even if he could have picked a better time to do that. It saved me the trouble of having to call in at 'speak now, or forever hold your peace.' Aber wir schweifen ab. Most importantly at this moment, I have time for watching The Sea Hawk with you. That's what you were planning, nicht wahr?"
Kurt chuckled. It was great to know Kassandra had her priorities straight. "Ich kann es kaum erwarten."
"Und du brauchst es nicht, Liebster. I'm getting off the train now, und-"
BEEP! The call was dropped. Followed by a knock at the door.
"-und hier bin ich!" Kassandra chimed, as Kurt opened the door for her. She threw her arms around his neck. Kurt scooped her up and swung her around a couple times.
"That's exactly what I was talking about, putting both of your arms to proper use again," he said, finally putting her back down.
"Oh, I thought you wanted another match of Florentine," said Kassandra.
"Wielleicht später," Kurt replied, steering Kassandra toward the rec room. "Im Moment ist alles was ich will ein guter Film, eine Flasche Zinfandel, und dich." He put the movie in, then sat beside her. "Aber, besonders dich," he added. Kassandra had just peeled off her hooded sweat jacket, revealing a heather-colored camisole top that only someone with her slight, athletic figure could wear with perfect modesty. Still the sight of her exposed shoulders- strong enough to bear the weight of the world, yet somehow soft enough that Kurt felt it horribly wrong that they should, invited his own strong and soft touch like nothing he had heretofore imagined. Kurt's tail, which had made itself at home twined around her knee, tightened slightly.
Kassandra sighed as Kurt brushed her wild, dark curls out of the way and kneaded her shoulders and the back of her neck. "Kurt, I think this movie is strangely appropriate, given my current circumstances. You know what the difference is between a privateer and a pirate, ja doch."
"One acts with the government's support, and the other doesn't."
"Or, as the case often is, the difference is more like the fact that it's politically expedient for governments to support one's activities and not the same activities of the other. Espionage is a lot like that. Intelligence has always been the most valuable plunder and the most powerful weapon anyway. But any spy who incurs public disfavor is on their own."
"Ebensogut moderne Freibeuterin oder Piratin," said Kurt, "Du bist immer noch die selbe alte Zeitgeist, nicht wahr?"
"Kurt, im Ernst-"
"I am serious." He then tipped up her chin, running his other hand down to the small of her back, and engaged her red-wine mouth in a long, smoldering kiss.
And Kassandra couldn't help thinking that all the musket and cannon fire in the sea battle that unfolded on the screen- Donnerwetter! -even Jubilee and Gambit combined at their most powerful could not produce pyrotechnics to match this.
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"There's only one reason why any two people here would want the rec room to themselves, Jean-Paul," said Annie. "Good Catholics or not, it's a safe bet that they aren't really watching that movie."
"Still, I left a pile of economics papers in there, and I really should finish grading them," said Northstar.
"Well, don't say I didn't warn you." Annie turned away and headed to the dining room. "You want me to get you anything?"
"Non, merci." Jean-Paul Beaubier cautiously approached the rec room. The door was left ajar, and through that, he could hear laughter punctuated by an alarming variety of noise. While there were some people in Quebec who knew German, Jean-Paul wasn't one of them. Not that it mattered. What he heard at least sounded tres indiscrete. And regardless of gender or sexual orientation, he maintained a respectable disinterest in catching anyone en flagrant delit. But he really wanted to get some work done. And maybe tell those two to keep it down or take their sottises someplace more appropriate. Like Kurt's room. Or maybe, based on the noise, anyway, the Danger Room.
"Und hier kommt mein Lieblingsteil."
"Das is auch meiner. Bist du bereit?"
"Ja doch!"
THWACK! THWACK!
"ACH! Mmmmph… Kurt! Herr Wolfingham und seine Handlangere haben nie so gekämpft!"
THWACK!
"Sie haben auch nie gegen eine so schöne Gegnerin gekämpft."
Jean-Paul braced himself, entered, et calvasse! There they were, Kassandra standing on the sofa, which was threatening to tip on account of Kurt, perched precariously on the back. Both up to nothing worse than jumping all over the furniture in an apparently unsuccessful bid to reenact the final battle with foam sabres, three of which Kurt wielded.
"Jean-Paul," said Kassandra. "Your papers are over there. And tell Annie to get her mind out of the gutter."
