The Warrior with No Name
By The Odd Little Turtle Named Froggie
(These are Marvel's characters. No claiming of ownership by me. I made up David. No relation to David Haller or Elias Bogan. I actually didn't know about Elias until after I'd written the first five chapters. I should also point out that, though it does exist in real life, I've never been to the restaurant in this chapter. The website makes it look fun, though.
As I'm sure everyone who has read to this point realizes/knows/etc., I am not a fan of chronological order. So don't expect it in this chapter or the upcoming ones.
Much love given to my dearest husband—who felt very put out by my not mentioning him last chapter—and, though he did not beta the last chapter until this evening (which I will remind him defeats the purpose of a beta), I love him anyway. He's been putting up with my crap for the last six years, and he doesn't raise (too much of) a stink when I burn food.
Input welcomed, but not necessary.)
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Darkness: An impenetrable blackness. And pain—too much pain. The pungent smell of smoke assailed the senses. Soon the blackness became purple. Beyond the purple she was aware of wind in her hair, on her face, but nowhere else. In fact she was quite cozy and warm, tucked into her own personal cocoon. The purple slowly lightened into indigo, and finally indigo blanched into…
Did that eighteen wheeler have a license plate number?
Kitty blinked, her vision blurred. The sounds of the city assaulted her ears in roaring percussion of, well, noise. Cars rushed and honked; an ambulance wailed by. Some where there was a jackhammer going. She wondered idly if it were digging a hole in her skull. The pounding ache didn't dull as harsh wind whipped at her hair making her… rock? She felt nauseous, beyond it, in fact as the wind continued its assault, carrying her body, where? It was a frigid wind, and it howled as though angered by her very presence. That made no sense. She shouldn't be anywhere there was wind. Not this cold. She couldn't feel the ground, and her fingers were definitely numb.
Again more wind. Again more rocking. There was someone close. Kitty could sense his or her heat. Pete? Rahne?
Blinking back blurry double vision, the only vision she seemed to be allowed, Kitty felt again the wind assault her and an increasing tightness around her chest, something holding her. She was cocooned in something. But… Her feet…God, her feet were cold.
"Pete?"
"Sorry, Ms. Pryde, Peter won't be able to get to you in time. His sister always comes first."
"Romany?" Her pulse began to beat erratically at the threatening in the voice. Get to her in time? What? Where was Romany? Where was Wisdom? What happened?
There was a man in front of her. She felt she should know this man with brown hair and brown eyes. His features were familiar. They were… floating. And there was something wrong. She just couldn't place it. She blinked again, the wind stirring her hair into her eyes. How did…why were…It hurt to think, to think back. A blinding, searing pain hit her just behind the eyes, and the last thing she remembered was looking into kind crystal blue eyes and wondering about the tenderness she saw there. Piotr?
Then she knew no more as blackness consumed her once again.
#
Piotr looked down at the carefully crafted up-do of brunette curls, the top of Kitty's head, just below his shoulder, a look of wonderment on his face. His hand tingled as he held hers lightly. When her bare arm brushed against his, shivers ran up and down his spine. If he leaned over slightly he could see right down the V of her spaghetti-strapped halter top. Guiltily he focused his attention on her head, ignoring the light-headed feeling he got when he looked at the beautiful woman standing beside him.
David had yet to reach the restaurant yet, so they waited in the lobby for him. Illyana stood to the other side of Piotr, her brother's large hand clamped on her shoulder. At five foot three, she was three inches shorter than Kitty. Kitty had managed to find something nice (and thankfully not black!) for Illyana to wear that evening. And the older woman had been kind enough to French braid her strangely streaked hair, making a rope of lavender, blue and blonde down the girl's back. He towered over both girl and woman. He kept both his charges in his protective grasp, loathing the moment they were to be seated and separated.
The restaurant had a formal, but pleasant feel to it, the scents, if not the atmosphere, reminding him of home. The dance floor beyond the podium and the tables and chairs had a few couples milling about to the music siphoned over the hi-fi system.
"Cat's Laughing!" Kitty nearly shouted. She pointed to a sign near the podium advertized this evening's live band, Cat's Laughing. She smiled up at him, all traces of her earlier mood gone, the soft lighting of the restaurant catching the odd colors of her eyes. He suddenly hoped he wasn't expected to dance. His wedding had been awkward, to say the least, even after his dancer-bride-to-be had given him a few lessons.
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Piotr checked his watch. Forty-five minutes later they were still standing in the same place, and all three were edgy and hungry. He sighed, eyed the hostess as Kitty asked yet again about reservations. Had Piotr realized that David was too shaken by his mother's death to think about such things, Piotr would have done it for the man. He thought back to what he felt when Illyana had phoned him from Russia,
immediately regretting the decision to do so as it not only stirred up the feelings despair regarding his parents, but of his daughter's death as well. Zilya had died not two weeks after Illyana had come to America.
Illyana poked him in the ribs, glaring at him from her position well below his shoulder. He blinked, his thoughts rushing back to the present.
He hadn't meant to sound irritable, but that's how it sounded even to his ears. "What?"
"Are we gonna get to eat or what?" she quizzed him impatiently.
Kitty looked back at them. "It might be a little bit, still, Kiddo. At least our name is on the waiting list now. Used Rasputin. Hope you don't mind."
Piotr gave a nonchalant shrug, and then draped an arm over her bare shoulders.
"We're friends right?" she asked, gazing in his eyes.
He nodded. "Da."
"And earlier?"
He shrugged again, meeting her accusing eyes without flinching. He refused to say, "With Benefits." That wasn't what he wanted. Holding her, kissing her had been wonderful, but the look on her face afterwards had broken his heart. He had no intention of doing something so foolish again.
"Adrenaline," Illyana supplied. Kitty only quirked a brow.
"You should call Logan," he stated, unexpectedly. Kitty blinked. "He and the others are searching for you, for Shadowcat."
"He said he was looking for Shadowcat?" she inquired, standing there, blank, amazed and very shaken.
"The other night." When she narrowed her eyes, he quickly replied, "I did not know that Kitty Pryde was Shadowcat before today. I would have told you in my apartment."
She only nodded, didn't release his hand. In fact she held his hand until after they were greeted by David and were seated at a table and forced to look at their own menus.
#
Kitty excused herself to call Logan, a line creasing her forehead, so Piotr took the opportunity to wash up before their orders came.
"Excuse me, David," he told his friend, still a little aggravated that the man had arrived at six o'clock instead of five. His eyes strayed to Kitty's retreating form as she moved lucidly through the crowded room, and then he met Illyana's blue eyes. In Russian he told her, "Be good for David."
She only crossed her arms in a huff and he got up from the table and headed in the general direction of the men's room. He wished that he had remembered to tell Kitty about Logan before now. As much as he wanted her—to be friends with her, he corrected himself hastily—he didn't want to come in between Logan's obvious feelings for the slight woman.
He jumped involuntarily as his cell phone went off just as he reached the men's room door. The waitress, who was on her way out of the ladies' room, smothered a laugh in her hand. Piotr felt his face heat up as he ducked quickly into the safety of the vibrantly tiled men's room.
Balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder, he stepped up to the urinal. "Da?"
"Petey, where's Kitty?"
Logan's frantic voice caught him off guard. He blinked. Frantic and Logan were not words he associated together. In his confusion, it took him a few seconds longer to answer. "Um, she was supposed to be calling you."
"I know that," the other all but yelled in his ear. "Are ya with her?"
Piotr looked down at himself, felt very awkward. "Nyet, Tovarisch. She stepped outside to phone you."
"Well, drop what yer doin and go get her!"
"Logan—"
"Dammit, Peter, stop bein' a bastard and get yer ass outside where ever ya are! She screamed right 'fore the line went dead. Somethin' happened ta her."
Ice filled Piotr's veins, but he didn't tell Logan his location. The flushing sound did it for him. "There is no need for name-calling, Wolverine. I'll check on her."
He gave Logan the location of the restaurant and hurried out of the men's room, shocked to find that the table from whence he'd come, was vacant. Not even Kitty's purse remained. He became more uncomfortable by the minute as his dismay grew. A tentative hand on his elbow caught his attention and he swung around, hoping for some kind of explanation. He hadn't been gone long enough for everyone to disappear.
"The gentleman told me to give you this," the waitress who had taken their orders said quietly. She held a legal sized yellow-gold envelope. Piotr opened the sealed envelope and inspected the contents, his brows drawing together in an agonized expression. The large Russian man swallowed with difficulty, the color draining from his face. From inside the envelope, two swatches of hair--one brown and curly and the other blonde and straight--greeted him along with a single white piece of paper. The page had one black word typed in capital boldface letters.
"CHOOSE."
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(Sorry for the shortness. Unfortunate last-minute Writing Fart. Almost as bad as writers' block. More up tomorrow.)