The Warrior with No Name

By the Odd Little Turtle Named Froggie

(Marvel characters belong to Marvel, including the Kingpin—if he's still around.

This chapter wouldn't have happened if not for the help from Author376. THANK YOU SO MUCH! If you haven't already, go check out Author's Stolen Child and its sequel in the X-men: Evolution section under Cartoons.

The next part won't take as long. I'm back on a roll now.

Input welcomed and most definitely encouraged.)

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David Brogan hung up from his call. He paced, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. There had to be some way to get Rasputin to sign the money over to him. He was an artist for fuck's sake. Not only did Peter own his own gallery, he showcased art in several others. There was no way that David believed the man wasn't rich. David's real estate business had taken a turn for the worst last year when he had lost money on an investment of a tourist island. The hurricanes had really messed things over, what with the rebuilding of the hotels and repopulating the island with indigenous plant and animal species. And the advertising costs. That had seriously eaten into his bottom line. It had been an investment gamble; there were ways to profit from his private island, just not right now. Now when he need the money the most.

So he paced, thinking. He had to get the money. Had too. The walls shook as he struggled to contain his power. When he was nervous or agitated, the telekinesis got a little out of hand. He stopped pacing, put out his cigarette with a shaking hand.

David knew the Kingpin would not be pleased that he couldn't get the money in the amount of time he'd promised. They would kill his wife if the money wasn't there. It wasn't like he could just storm the walls and go in and get her. The Kingpin had the biggest crime ring in the world. Not only did the man have most of the mafia under his bulbous thumb, he had the Hand, too. David was only one man, and, though he had substantial physical and telekinetic powers, there would be no way to reach Amelia in time.

Then the thought struck him. David Brogan smiled deviously and searched in the phone book for the number for Riff's on the River. Kitty Pryde would be able to help him out. He was sure of it.

When he finished that phone call, he dialed Peter's cell number.

"Hey, Pete, d'ya think we could go for out for a bit? I really gotta talk man."

#

Kitty chuckled quietly at the interplay between siblings. She'd always wondered what it would be like not to have been an only child. Her years with the X-men and later with Excalibur had given her a wonderful a family when her own had been so rotten. Sadly, her parents had divorced when she was fifteen, her father dying a few years earlier. Not liking the way her thoughts were turning, she listened intently to the conversation at hand.

"But I could," Illyana insisted stubbornly.

"Illyana Nikolievna!" Piotr all but yelled and Illyana backed down, pouting but not saying anything. Her eyes watered, but no tears fell. Her brother didn't think he would be able to take tears and prayed to whatever deity was available no tears would grace his sister's face.

He looked at Kitty sheepishly. "Again, I apologize for my sister's behavior, Katya."

Kitty only laughed, more to keep her thoughts off her awful experience, but enjoying his nickname for her and winked at the man playfully. To Illyana she said, "I might just have to take you up on that one day, kiddo. That might be one interesting sparring match."

The young Russian's visage brightened considerably, and she grinned at her brother, her expression one of exhilaration and triumph. She abruptly turned her attention back to the zany adventures of Howard the Duck. Piotr glanced at both females as if they had sprouted two heads then rolled his eyes.

Kitty grinned and got up from the fold-away bed. "I'm gonna finish patching myself up and get a shirt on."

Piotr sat up rigidly, his expression serious, his eyebrows furrowed. "There are more--?"

"She got me all over." Kitty waved a slender hand across her front indicating her breast and belly. She turned away from them and adjusted her towel so that she could reveal her flat stomach to him without flashing anything less than decent at him. She knew she would die of mortification if that were to happen. When she turned back around again, she allowed him to see the deeper scratches that marred the tanned flesh on her abdomen, the dragon belly ring glinting in the artificial light of the living room and the flashing of the television set.

By the White Wolf.

Piotr's heart turned over, and he couldn't breathe. He didn't know if it was because of the vertical scratches on her tummy or the ring—which he decided right then and there that that tiny ring was the biggest turn on he had ever seen and it would be the object of his fantasies about the petite woman. That ring and feeling her nude body in his arms when he'd caught her only a little while ago as she tumbled headfirst out of her bubble bath would haunt his dreams.

The blue-eyed Russian got up and grabbed the first aid kit. His other hand encircled her slender arm, his fingers clasping gently but possessively around the upper part of her left shoulder completely blocking the dragon tattoo from view. He led her to the bathroom, his warm hand sending electric currents up and down her arm.

"The lighting is better in here," he said, setting the kit on the toilet seat. His strong hands encircled her slim waist and he lifted her to sit on the cabinet by the small sink. She squeaked, startled by his move, but equally in pain as the towel irritated a fresh scratch on her ribs. Piotr only smiled kindly at her. "I should have warned you, da?"

Snapping out of her momentary stupor, Kitty batted his big hands away, lest they lingered too long on her slender waist. "I can handle this one, Peter. I'm fine."

"I make you uncomfortable?" His closeness was overwhelming her.

She sighed, lifted her chin, and answered in a rush of words, "Not so much that as I'm embarrassed. I mean, I'm not—that is, um. No, not uncomfortable. It's just that Mikhail got me in a pretty interesting place. So I'm not uncomfortable with you. Being here. I haven't been around a man in a while." Her brown eyes fell on everything but him, her face heating up. Amused, he held up his hands.

"I will let you handle it, then," he told her. She caught his arm between nimble fingers before he could move away. His belly did a flip wondering if—

"Peter, would it be wrong if I said I was Shadowcat?" she asked hesitantly, her voice had drifted into a hushed whisper, her hand lingering on his muscular forearm.

He hesitated, all amusement leaving his face. He measured her for a moment. "Are you?"

She licked her lips and nodded. Piotr watched her tongue moisten her lips, her face clouded with uneasiness. Kitty was Shadowcat. Logan's Shadowcat.

A fool, he thought suddenly. All thoughts of wanting her went southward as his heart plunged into socks. He was such a fool. This was Logan's love. Illyana had proven his suspicions of Shadowcat, but to know that Kitty was…completely off limits-- The tightness in his chest became a physical pain.

Kitty watched the play of emotions across Piotr's face. "Now you know why I couldn't face Logan at lunch," she told him with a shrug.

"Kitty, you being Shadowcat," he replied, with a little more force than necessary, "and you being his 'pet pupil' as Illyana says, does not explain why you ran away from me—Logan." He slipped and Kitty caught it.

"I wasn't running from you, Peter." She hopped down from the cabinet, snatched up the first aid kit. "I wasn't running at all."

"Keep telling yourself that." His words were harsh, angry even.

She spun around, her eyes dark with anger. "Yeah, I know I owe you an explanation," she spit out tersely," but don't you judge me. Don't you dare. You have no right. Peter, you have no idea what I've been through." Her voice waivered and she turned back around, her fingers gripping the bathroom cabinet, knuckles white. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Piotr hesitated briefly before reaching out and putting a soothing hand on the shoulder that didn't have a bandage. "So talk to me. I will listen. You've obviously been through a great deal. I would like to help you. If you let me. We are friends right? It is how you say, 'what friends are for.'" Kitty looked at him through the bathroom mirror, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. He squeezed her shoulder gently, encouragingly, and she opened her mouth to speak.

"You're Shadowcat?" Illyana asked from the doorway.

Piotr almost told his sister to go away, that Kitty had chosen to speak with him, not her, but had no idea where that thought came from. Jealous of my sister now? He asked himself as he sighed. "Let's let Kitty get herself dressed, and she can explain things to us," he said instead. With that, he guided his sister out of the bathroom and shut the door.

Great, Kitty thought. She groaned and applied salve and bandages to her breast, ribs and belly, cursing the cat the entire time. The petite brunette then threw on her bra and a tee-shirt that read, I poke badgers with spoons, and walked back to the living room. Illyana had turned off the television and the couch bed had been made back into a couch. She sat tucked under her brother's arm.

"How about an interesting sparring match?" she asked, challenge in her blue eyes.

"Been a while."

Illyana only smiled and proceeded to order her brother to clear a spot for them.

#

Illyana was giddy. So this was Shadowcat. This was the woman that Logan said could kick his ass two ways from Tuesday. Wow. This was so much cooler than meeting Spiderman.

She had always wondered why Logan had never called his pupil by her real name. Now she thought she knew. Superheroes had secret identities. Kitty was Shadowcat's secret identity. It all made sense now. Sure, she was a little disappointed that Kitty had told Piotr first, but being a hero—a superhero—meant that you couldn't tell everyone who you were. Hopefully, Illyana thought, she would get a codename soon and then she would have a secret identity too.

"You sure you want to do this, kiddo?" Kitty asked, and Illyana bobbed her head eagerly.

She assumed a basic Karate fighting stance. "Can you fight in jeans?" she asked.

"The Enemy doesn't wait for us to get dressed." Kitty assumed an unfamiliar fighting stance, and suddenly Illyana felt more nervous than anxious. It must have shown on her face because Kitty tilted an eyebrow.

"What styles do you know?"

"Karate and Judo."

"That's it?"

"I'm only fifteen."

Kitty snorted. "Nothing like demonic possession to sharpen a girl's ninja skills."

"Huh?"

Kitty didn't answer, her face going blank. Illyana knew before the woman struck that she was in trouble, but the quickness of Shadowcat still caught her off guard. Feet swept out from under her, Illyana landed on her butt with a thump.

"Still think you can kick my ass, kiddo?"

Well, crap.

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(The demonic possession sentence was suggested by Author376. Thank you again. More on the way.)