THE DOMESTICS STORY ARC

STORY SUMMARY: Domestic life with the X-Men.

DISCLAIMERS: All characters and organizations (with the exception of small, mostly unnamed minor characters) are the product of Marvel.

CANONICAL NOTES: This story arc accepts movieverse canon for First Class, X1, X2, and X3. XO (Origins) is ignored. Powers for major characters follow movieverse, with the exception of Remy LeBeau/Gambit who is based on comicverse.

LANGUAGE AND ACCENTS: Cajun French is courtesy of Heavenmetal (many thanks). I will attempt to reproduce accents in this story arc.

The Way to a Girl's Heart

- 0a -

Story Summary: Charles always did know the way to a girl's heart.

Chapter Summary: Let's face it: chocolate was a girl's best friend.

Chapter Notes: Set sometime shortly following X1. Written for arliddian. She wanted a follow-up to "Tech Support."

Chocolate for a Lady

- 2 -

She started early putting in hints. Kitty wasn't optimistic enough to think St. John wouldn't get as creative with his valentines as he had with his request for her affections (or at least her Friday nights), so she made up a decent excuse (read: extorted out of Jubilee any magazine she could come up with covered the topic) and informed her...friend who was a boy that she, Katherine Pryde, was a very traditional sort of girl (MIT courses and hacker tendencies aside). She much preferred chocolate and roses to a pink lighter with her name engraved on it. (She didn't smoke.)

Chocolate and roses. Nice, warm, rich, velvety, delicious chocolate—or roses because they were romantic and she would appreciate a romantic gesture now and then. But she really wanted the chocolate. Chocolate was a girl's best friend (ignoring any myths to the contrary).

So she was not impressed at all by the tiny box that showed up on her pillow and its accompanying serenade (though she was grateful he was not tone deaf, there were better times to make her aware of this fact than six o'clock in the morning). She didn't feel all that bad either about the dawning panic on his face at seeing her crestfallen expression when she opened said box to find a set of cold, hard, tiny diamond earrings. She understood they were expensive and he was new at this and she ought to be grateful, but she'd toldhim what she wanted and so had every right to pout.

"Where's my chocolate?"

Xavier found St. John Allerdyce sitting at the kitchen table with a dazed expression on his face. A very important phone call was waiting for the Professor in his office, along with three bills, a motion in Congress to go over, and a letter from Moira McTaggert with questions he didn't know how to answer, but Xavier had never been able to force himself to pass by unheeding of such a disconsolate cloud of thoughts as the one hovering over St. John's head.

So he sighed and wheeled over to the table. He did not even get a chance to ask what was wrong before St. John opened his mouth and told him.

"I asked Mr. Summers," St. John said, still sounding a little dazed. He was holding up a box of perfectly exquisite diamond studs. "And she kicked me out."

Xavier glanced briefly over at the clock (it was still before seven in the morning) and winced. "Perhaps your timing?"

"She said she was a traditional sort of girl and Jean is too, so I asked him, and it didn't work at all."

The entire scene played out before Xavier's mental eyes and he realized this was more—and less—serious than he thought.

"Jean is not Kitty," Xavier told him gently. "Jean likes solid, lasting gifts from Scott as long-term reminders of his love."

St. John finally actually looked at the Professor, an encouraging sign.

Xavier went on. "Kitty has not been in a relationship long, and she wants the romance symbolized by things like flowers and chocolates, things that are comforting and exciting, but which don't last as long as diamonds."

St. John nodded. "Exit strategy."

Xavier frowned at that, but not all battles would be fought today (Moira was waiting after all). He smiled. "I do have a use for those diamond earrings if you would like the money back."

St. John looked at him oddly.

"A gift," Xavier added, chuckling at the visual of himself wearing them. "For a very old friend."

Nobody else ever did find out the story behind a dozen boxes of chocolate that showed up on Kitty's bed that evening—or the small package that arrived on Mystique's birthday and drew a small, satisfied smile.