Disclaimer: not mine.
A/N: Something of a filler chapter before we get to the wrap up. It was awkward to write this considering the fact that I just finished a Kyro fic (shameless plug, go read it). I'm fascinated with Kitty as a character, how no matter what it seems she always left with the short stick. One of the things I'm really trying to get across with this fic is that none of these people or realtionships are perfect, even the Bobby/Kitty ship that looks so flawless on the surface. Anyway, sorry for the rambling...
It was an odd request but John had gotten so used to those over the past year that it didn't really register until he was in the cab heading down town. Marie was at work and it wasn't entirely unusual for him to be missing when she got home in the afternoons, so it wasn't really a concern of his that she'd suspect something underhanded was going on.
Underhanded? Where did that word come from? There was nothing wrong about going to get lunch with an old friend without telling your girlfriend, was there? No, especially when that old friend also so happened to be the wife of your best friend. Or did that make it worse? Why did she ask me to not tell Marie or Bobby about this meeting? Why any of this?
He doesn't know, which is another irritating trend that's picked up recently, the total lack of satisfactory answers when it comes to the dealings of his own life. He doesn't like loss of control. He doesn't like unwanted ignorance. He plants his feet on the grimy floor of the cab and watches as colorful entities smear past him in his periphery. It's all blur and smudge and unclear and he likes that. He thinks it's fitting.
One of John's most prominent and well known qualities is the fact that whenever he becomes unsure and uncomfortable, he turns to his most developed ability. While the masses would assume that means he pulls out the shark lighter so many have grown to fear and proceeds to throw flames, they'd be incorrect, but no more safe. It comes own to arrogance and sarcasm and something thatinchesfrighteningly close to pure and undiluted misanthropy.
"Listen, I know you're going to tell me that you're leaving Bobby for me and I know that you think I'm going to be surprised, but I'm totallynot. To be perfectly honest, Pussy cat, this has probably been coming down the pipes for a while."
Kitty rolls her eyes and marvels at how John can manage to be exasperating and yet annoyingly charming before he's even fully in the diner booth. She sighs and signals to the waitress that they are ready to order now that her company is here.
"Will you shut up, John?" she asks in a hushed voice, hoping he'll copy her tone, "This is serious business."
"I know it is!" he scoffs. "And while you are a lovely young women and I'm sure you have many wonderful qualities, I'm just not going tobreak Marie's heart for you."
Kitty laughs thinly and is still trying to think of a response when the waitress returns with her pad and jots down that they'll both have the club sandwich. Coffee for John, water with lemon for Kitty.
"So really, Kitty, what's this serious issue that we need to discuss, the thing that I can't tell Marie were talking about?"
"Have you given any thought at all to how your going to propose to her?" she blurts out before he's completely finished his statement.
John looks at her pointedly and shakes his head with disbelief. "How is it that you know what's going on in everyone's lives, even though some of that shit is supposed to be private?"
"I listen." she answers easily,
"Marie and I only talked about marriage a week ago."
"I listen really well," she responds just as effortlessly.
Coffee and water appear at the table and they both pause the way people having anxious conversations tend to whenever they realize they're in public. The wait staff representing the least of their worries when it comes to someone overhearing.
Kitty looks up at John and realizes how it might seem to the employees of the diner. She was a nervous wreak before he had arrived, twisting napkin after napkin into shreds before dropping them far less than inconspicuously under the table. It probably looked like she was waiting for her drug dealer. Or she was about to break up with her boyfriend. Or that she was having an affair. Oh my God, she thinks about John's jocular comments as he came in, It does look like we're having an affair.
But she pushes those thoughts out of her head and takes a couple sips of her water so she can collect herself before blazing forward with the subject. Besides, she's pretty sure the workers at this shit hole have seen things far worse than adultery. Her water tastes like dirt.
"I just want to know what you're going to do, Johnny. And before you say it, no, I'm not just being nosy. I know you don't want to hurt her-"
"Glad to see I finally proved that one," he interjects sarcastically.
"-But, women are strange, things that you don't think are going to be hurtful are. And it's usually the shit that you don't see that hurts the most."
"You sound like you're speaking from experience," John says softly.
Kitty looks down at the table, noticing a small patch of light that the filthy windows and blinds create and thinks about a line from Franny and Zooey. She can't remember how it goes exactly but she knows it has to with Franny looking at the same thing and wanting to do nothing more than crawl into that tiny piece of sunshine and lay forever. Kitty understands. She thinks that John probably knows how the passage goes and opens her mouth of ask him, but then close it again. She rubs the bridge of her nose and mutters, "More or less."
"Listen Kitten, I know your heart's in the right place here, but Marie and I are none of your business."
"Yes, you are," she states with resolve and certainty, "Or really Rouge is. She became my business the minute she forgave me for what happened...with Bobby. She was...better than me. If the roles had been reversed, I would have scratched her eyes out. Even though they were broken up already, it was...I don't know. I can't say it was wrong because I love him and he loves me and we're married, it wasn't just some fling! But I know she probably felt like I betrayed her and our friendship by being with him but...she forgave me. And I didn't deserve it! God, I know that! I'm just going to have to do everything I can to earn it. And that, Johnny Boy, makes you my business by proxy. So get used to it."
John had never seen so much resolve in the petite,normally stoic and calm woman in front of him, at least not since Alcatraz. But God, they had just been kids then.Why hadn't he realized, really given any thought to how much it had to of hurt her all those years ago? Not the battles and the bloodshed, but the pining after the one guy who was completely off limits. She had to have known someplace inside of herself that in the end, it would come down to being with the man she loved or breaking the most basic rule of friendship: No touching your friend's ex. No doubt it was a hard decision to make. And John has to admit he respects her for making it, sticking with it, and trying her damnedest to have it work out for the best.
But a lot of guilt had to be involved. And John Allerdyce counts himself as an expert on two things in this world: Guilt and Fire.
"That sounds fair," he finally mumbles into his coffee cup.
Kitty exhales slowly and John can tell she's about to say something rehearsed, whatever message she had been planning to give when she scheduled this clandestine luncheon.
"Bobby asked me to marry him here. At this diner, in this booth. We were eating breakfast and where about to shop for a new microwave. He killed our last one when he was half asleep and threw a Pop Tart, foil wrapper and all into our old one," she shakes her head and her expression becomes pensive, like she's trying to fully grasp a memory that's faded into something too slippery to get a solid grip on.
"I don't even remember what we were eating. He just looked up from the paper and asked me to marry him. It was totally spur of the moment, he didn't even have the ring yet."
"It sounds nice." John tells her sincerely, smiling a lopsided grin.
"It was, I guess," she looks up at him and he can see more guilt swimming just under the surface of her face, hidden by practice and commitment and love.
"John, promise me you'll never tell Bobby what I'm about to say." He nods his ascent.
"It was disappointing. It was...all wrong for me. It hurt. I don't want to sound petty or who knows, like some kind of ungrateful bitch, but it hurt, I thought he knew me better than that. I know it's cliche, but I'm the kind of girl who spent every Valentine's Day and New Years and anniversary we had on the edge of my seat, waiting for him to pull out this ring and have it be something romantic and memorable. Marie deserves that, the very best. And so do you. So just, give it some thought, ok? Make it right for both of you. Not just...convenient."
They eat their sandwiches in companionable quiet, interrupting the silence occasionally to ask questions about the others life, careful not to touch on anything too personal, as they both feel enough of that had been going on for one lunch. They go ahead and schedule the next monthly dinner while they're at it, coming to an unspoken agreement that while this meal was innocent for all purposes, it's probably better that they never tell their significant others about it and avoid repeating the activity again at all costs.
When they get up to leave, Kitty insisting on footing the whole bill since she was the one who made John schlep all the way downtown to eat at a greasy spoon diner, John hugs Kitty a little bit longer and harder than they usually do, and Kitty lets him even though she's still paranoid about the appearance of infidelity.
"You aren't a bad person for wanting what you want, Kitten. Don't feel guilty, it's just..." he searches for the words to describe how pointless and exhausting guilt can be as they pull away from each other and when he meets her gaze again, he hopes she can see how much he wishes this burden wasn't something that gave the two of thema heavy connection.
"I know," she whispers back.
But John is not Bobby, he has the ring ready. He calls Marie's father to ask for his daughters hand like tradition stipulates and tries to shake the nagging feeling that he's going about this the wrong way. He hangs up before anyone answers. He thinks again and then redials the phone, waiting with even more anxiety than before for Logan to pick up. The answer is a gruff 'Hell no,' before he hears the line go dead. John calls back every night for a week and a half, getting answers that range from a feral growl to a simple 'Fuck you.' Eventually the Wolverine gives in and gives his blessing, which honestly means more to John than if a thousand clones of Marie's biological father granted him the same.
He wakes her up a few weeks later in the middle of night because he can't sleep and he's bored and somehow he thinks that fits in with the tone of their relationship. He gets the ring out from behind his copy of Breakfast of Champions on the bookshelf, where he knows she knows it is and shakes her awake gently.
"What is it, John?"
"Marry me."
"What?" she asks thickly, her voice clogged by sleep. He turns on the small lamp on the bedside table and sits crossed legged on the comforter next to her.
"I love you."
"I love you, too," she responds, sounding dazed by the sudden onslaught of events.
"I know that some girls want big, you know," he gestures emphatically to try and get his point across, "things for their proposals, but that's not me and...you love me. And I, I couldn't think of a better place than here, in this bed, in this tiny ass apartment where you've let me start this new life with you where I'm safe and welcome and forgiven again. You make me sane and good and worth sticking around for. You'd have my children and take me to weddings I'm not invited to and understand that I can't go back there, back to the mansion in Westchester, not like that, not as a soldier. You know all the things that I've done and you tell me that it's ok and that you forgive me and Jesus, I don't know why but I believe you when you say that to me. You're not perfect and I'm far from it but we're pretty fucking close when you put us together. I love you, you crazy, sad, cured, beautiful, mutant woman and I'm asking you to marry me."
"Yes," Marie breathes.
That was perfect, Marie thinks as John kisses her.
He makes it right for both of them.