Disclaimer- Marvel owns them, I'm using them without permission, and not making any money out of it.
Spoiler warning- events up to Uncanny X-Men #460 may be discussed.
"Half Dollar Blues - an interlude"
Their embrace continued for quite some time. The CD player continued with the third track, "Half Dollar Blues", a fast paced blues number with Adam Stemple singing. It was a typical down-on-your-heels sort of theme, and was finishing up, "…Gonna put it in a letter, play for jacks or better. And just call it the half dollar blues…"
"Hey Pryde," Rachel spoke, finally releasing her friend and hitting pause on the CD player. "I'm starving- you wanna get some munchies?"
Kitty pushed back a lock of her chestnut hair that had slipped free of her ponytail and wiped her eyes, "Definitely. Needing food and caffeine badly here. Leave the radio off for a bit- I don't know what emotional torment the next track will dredge up. I love this band, I really do. I just didn't realize how much of their music is linked to emotional periods in my life."
"There's a sound psychological principle behind that-"
Kitty laughed, "Spare me, Dr. Grey! I took my share of psych classes too. It's one thing to read it, it's another to feel it. I just wonder if I play a Kiss CD if I'll feel the same shame I did after asking out Tommy Schlamie when I was a kid. So, back to Salem Center, or do we hit the next Mom and Pop that comes along?"
Rachel gazed over the countryside, the tall grass bending gently to the wind. Go back, or press on. she thought to herself. They had already shared more in a few minutes than they had in months, possibly more than at any time since her rescue from Bogan. To go forward meant risking more of herself, and also hearing things she wasn't prepared to hear. But Kitty was her best friend, and she knew that her heart was aching to get these issues out in the open. Well damn the traditional Summers' stoicism and damn the traditional X-men emotional reticence. "Why don't we see what's over that hill?"
"Onward and upwards it is…" Kitty grinned, putting on her own shades and throwing the car into drive.
Piotr Nikolievitch Rasputin breathed in deep, the fresh breeze carrying a bouquet of scents across Breakstone Lake to where he lay on his back, propped up on his elbows. Dressed casually in an old T-shirt and faded, paint smeared jeans, he was content to bask in the afternoon sun. Some of the younger students were playing a game of mutant tag over a ways, and it made him smile to see their exuberance and hear their laughter. He almost laughed himself when, to avoid a tag by a boy with elongating arms, a little blonde girl ran right across the surface of the pool, splashing some other students playing a game of "Marco Polo".
An explosion of sulfur and brimstone caught Piotr on the inhale and began to choke. "Kurt," he wheezed, "What was… cough so urgent … that you needed … gasp … to teleport here."
"My apologies, mein freund," Kurt Wagner crouched down, "I just hadn't had a chance to speak with you much since you returned to us. If this is a bad time…"
"Nyet, my friend" the tall Russian said, finally catching his breath. "It is merely that your entrance came when I was enjoying the fragrance of late spring and caught me off guard." He pulled himself to his feet and stuck out his hand, "It is always good to see you, tovarisch."
Kurt took the offered hand and grasped it tightly, three fingers closing around five. He pulled himself up to his full height- a full half foot shorter than his counterpart- and then drew his friend into a fierce embrace. "I know you have heard this from the others, but you will hear it from me as well. Do not ever do that to us again. Ever. You are one of my dearest friends, and losing you hurt me deeply."
"I am truly sorry for the pain I have caused you, and Katya, and the rest. I did not think much that day. I have had many days since then, to think, to reflect. I am not proud of what I did-"
"Sehr gut," Kurt replied, releasing his friend and turning back towards the mansion "Now that we've got that out of the way-"
Piotr interrupted his friend, "Please, let me continue. I am not proud of what I did, but I cannot say I am entirely ashamed or sorry for doing it. Does not your holy book say that a man can have no greater love than to give his life for his friends? I regret deeply the pain that I caused you, and I regret the rashness of my actions, that I was acting emotionally, and, yes, selfishly. But to rid the world of that plague? To ensure no one would have had to suffer as my poor Illyana Nikolievna? For that, I cannot be ashamed."
"'The needs of the many', yes Peter, Kitty has made us watch that Star Trek movie with Ricardo Montalban." Kurt clenched his fist, controlling his anger. "I do understand why you did it. Kitty and I had some long talks about all the right reasons- and all the wrong reasons. But what you need to know is that it didn't matter- we lost our friend. And there were other alternatives – one of Jamie's duplicates, perhaps, or even one of Sinister's clones. Yes, I would've bargained with that devil to save your life; I was even –briefly- tempted by his promise to clone you."
Piotr hung his head silently, his large form seeming to deflate at the German mutant's tone. He stared at his feet, the soft grass poking in between his toes. He had been through this scene with Katya, Logan, and Henry. He was glad that Dr. Reyes was no longer at the mansion- she would be nearly as hard to face as Kitty. Only Scott, while asking him to discuss things before making such a precipitous decision again, had been almost understanding about the event.
"Regardless," Kurt said, with his familiar impish grin finally returning to his face, "I am very happy to have you back with us."
"And I, likewise, am glad to be back with my friends." Piotr moved his face into a smile, "So what was so important that it justified an entire lungful of sulfur and brimstone?
Kurt looked pensive for a moment, as if trying to remember something. "Aha, I remember now! I was thinking it would be good to get out of the house, maybe get dinner, catch a film. I thought we could grab Kitty and Rachel and paint the town. Have you seen them?"
"Hey Pryde, how's the pickings over there?" Rachel called over the shelves. "This luncheon meat here looks like it might bite back."
"Shhhh! Not so loud!" Kitty answered, embarrassed. "They've got Cheez-Doodles, and cupcakes and, ooh, Nutter Butters, and maybe some Salt and Vinegar…" The young woman tossed a few more bags of junk food into the blue plastic basket on her arm, and walked around the aisle to meet up with her friend. She hadn't changed her clothes before starting off on this romp, still wearing a peach sweater over a sleeveless white blouse, with blue slacks and plain white shoes. She wondered how the two of them looked to the middle-aged man at the register, with her own conservative schoolteacher ensemble and Rachel, being, well, Rachel. Baby-doll shirt with exposed midriff, jean shorts, Birks. The clerk's eyes hadn't strayed far from the redhead since they'd come in.
"I'll just grab us some drinks and we'll be off. Since the coffee has the intriguing odor of MacTaggart's special blend after four days on the burner, how about something from the cooler? Vanilla Frappuccino, right?"
Kitty nodded, and headed up to the register, followed by her friend. The man rang up their purchases slowly, taking every opportunity to glance at Rachel while making an attempt at conversation, "You young ladies from 'round here?"
Rachel's eyes narrowed at the unwelcome leer and a stray thought. Before Kitty could answer, she just nodded yes and handed over a twenty. The man threw out a perfunctory "Have a good day" as he handed over her change. He wasn't feeling so well all of a sudden. After the girls left the store he scrambled to the antacids and downed several.
Outside, Kitty was a bit miffed with her friend. "Spill it, Ray, what was that all about? He seemed like a nice old guy just talking to the customers. If it was about him staring, hey, I've learned to deal, and I thought you liked the attention."
Rachel shrugged, "He was about to warn us about the 'freak school' to the east. I thought I'd give him something else to worry about- nothing major. A little bellyache that should go away just as soon as he stops being such a racist bastard. Emma's been teaching me about post-hypnotic psychic influence."
"Fix it, Ray."
"He's a jerk, Kitty, a Purity spouting ass who-"
"Just fix it. That's Emma's way, not ours. We're supposed to be the good guys." Her brown eyes glanced back at the little convenience store. "Though I do realize how hard it is sometimes."
Rachel shut her eyes, then opened them. "There. Now how's about letting me drive a bit. That way you can focus more on the music."
Inside, Gerald Rickman was surprised at the immediate relief from the antacid. He scratched his stomach, let out a small belch, and watched the Mazda drive off. For some reason, those two girls gave him the willies. He glanced at the clock, and switched on the old radio be the register. Alice Tremaine was a guest on "Our Modern Crusade" today, and he'd heard good things about her..
Author's note: Thanks again to my reviewers. You are definitely influencing where this is taking me. This chapter was supposed to be about Kitty and her feelings for Pete Wisdom, but I chickened out and went with this instead. I hope Madripoor Rose enjoyed the Kurt and Peter cameos. I find myself trying to fit this into continuity not only with the comics, but also the great fanfic that's out there already. It makes it tricky, since people far, far more capable than I have written wonderful scenes of Kitty and Piotr finally breaking through to each other and I don't know if that particular happy ending is a place I can get to from here. And, again, david, sorry about the Kiotr. Well, not really, 'cause I like it. I myself never had much interest in Pryde-Wisdom, though (I hope) I have some glimpses as to why it worked for so many others.
Next (for real this time): Facade